For the First time
by TheyWillConquer
Summary: Harry/Draco. Slash. EDITING. Draco had no wish, not one he knew of. Until he was seven years back did he find that the wish that shouldn't be spoken of deep inside could come true and he was willing to take the risk. Part I complete. Part II incomplete.
1. Part I, chapter one: Turning back

**Title**: For the First time  
**Author**: Mabu  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Genre:** Romance, Angst, Fanon.  
**Warnings**: Time-Traveling fiction.  
**Disclaimer**: Property of JK Rowling. Quotes from the book may be repeated in here since time is turning.  
**Author's note**: This story has given me headaches all over the place.

EDITED IN MORE WAYS THAN JUST GRAMMATICALLY

* * *

**Part I: Fourth Year**

'_What do you wish for, Draco_?'

'I don't wish for anything.'

'_Don't lie_.'

'Okay. Suppose I do have a wish, what good would wishing do for me?'

'_You'd be surprised. Ancient magic has methods that can make every person's dream come true. Even the most precarious ones._'

'And you would know because...?'

Alice had just smiled secretively.

Later that evening, a crackle of energy enamored his whole body and he found himself falling into the sucking hole beneath him.

"Alice!" Draco tried to call, reaching out for the woman, but Alice didn't help. She just looked down at him with a warm smile, stepping back, out of his reach. Shadows and blue cheap lights glinted, highlighting her kind smile that looked almost like a grimace in the dark and all Draco could do was freeze in time, one hand reaching out for thin air and his body falling under a weighted gravity and into the gaping hole on the ground.

'_Sweet dreams, Draco_.' his assailant said and the wind blew.

Draco's wide eyes watched as the figure disappeared and suddenly, he was spinning into darkness.

* * *

**Chapter One;**

**Turning back**

'Should've held my ground  
I could've been redeemed  
For every second chance  
That changed its mind on me'

**the mess I made, parachute**

* * *

Dreaming.

That was perhaps, his very first guess of the situation when he opened his eyes and saw what was in front of him. It was a new yet familiar sight and it was _the _familiar sight that made him feel so out of his element (ignoring for the moment, that he really_ was_ out of his element)

His body felt weird and tingly, as if it was not even there; as if he was not in his body at all; as if the world had spun him around and tripped him to a new dimension.

A dimension where he relived familiar visions.

Taking into account what happened earlier with Alice, Draco wasn't sure about the 'as if' anymore. He was pretty sure that witch had done something to him.

But what?

_"D-...-co_?" the voice came from a girl Draco had known about half his life. But the thin, pretty girl that sat next to him was not the same Pansy he knew from his time. She was young, eyes black and innocent in a way. There was_ nothing_ innocent about Pansy Parkinson when she was young or old. But still, the innocence of her young age reflected things beneath her eyes that he might not have been able to see unless-

He had dreams before but, they had never been as vivid as this at all. He sat gaping at Pansy, who looked so concerned for him. Beside her sat other concerned looking individuals. Individuals who were just as young as her, just as innocent. Just like her, they were Slytherins; Slytherins he used to know. They were clever, cunning and selfish. There should be nothing innocent about their gaze, but he felt it in their eyes as they looked in his direction.

He could _feel_ their voices reverberating under his skull, see their mouths moving as they murmured amongst each other, but he couldn't decipher what they were saying. Were they talking to him?

He turned his head round and the scenery around him was a quick blur of colors and tables and chatters and candles.

Shock coursed through his neck where a lump took place as he swallowed.

_The sight before him was a dream_. He told himself. Isn't this how it felt to be dreaming? His ears were deaf to sound, he hadn't spoken a word yet and wasn't sure if he would be able to, and his whole body felt paralysed. This had to be just a dream. He never had dreams anymore or he didn't remember them any longer. Too much of reality was mixed with unconscious for him nowadays so, who could keep a track of where and when?

And yet, he consciously remembered Alice as he fell down a hole on the ground that came out of nowhere. He had never been more sober when he had met her that day. Not a drop of wine or whiskey. What was it? He suspected from the beginning that Alice was a strange person in every right, but he was reassured by her obvious affections for him; she wasn't going to hurt him. But then, she unexpectedly cast some long and complex spell which Draco had never heard of before.

And he had thought in dismay that maybe, he was wrong. Maybe, whatever Alice did was a trap. Maybe, she did hate him for being a former-Death Eater like everyone else and was planning this from the beginning.

So, he had closed his eyes and opened them in despair, hoping that at least, his death wouldn't be gruesome. And there lay the Great Hall of Hogwarts itself. Shining and blooming with energy and noise. This was Hogwarts in the past when he was still a student.

What if she put him under a dream spell? Could she do that? He wondered.

What was this feeling under his skin like he may be out of his own body, but his essence was as solid as metal inside?

A voice was flailing to get noticed in his head, but after a while, it was no longer bothering him. The numbness in his ear vanished and suddenly, he could hear the chatter clearly.

_He could HEAR them._

"Draco? Draco? What's wrong?"

He looked to Queenie, Blaise, Marcus, Pansy, Crabbe, and Goyle respectively. And instead of answering, he looked round again and this time-

And this time, he saw the Headmaster he had been ordered to kill in his sixth year and the Professor who had done his deed for him. He expected the scenery to change then; for Aunt Bella to walk on top of the staff table and hex everything to bits and pieces. That was usually the sequence in which his nightmares went.

But nothing happened.

Snape looked just as shrewd, cold, and calculating as ever. The same could be said about Hogwart's Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, who was smiling in a pleased sort of way, eyes lighting up in amusement and looking healthy and safe. Safe from Draco's clutches, safe from the Death Eaters and safe from falling off an Astronomy tower.

He watched the spectacle for a moment with wide eyes, trying to process it all and feed it into his brain, but it was all too much. His eyes blurred as tears pierced his eyes; making the guess that he was dreaming even more impossible. And the insistent jerking of his shoulders as somebody shook him roughly was felt with painful clarity. All the more so as he parted his lips, realising dreadfully that he might be able to talk.

_____No. No. No. _

"Draco."

___'What is your wish, Draco?'_

"Pans, calm down."

'_Don't lie_.'

"I can't calm down. Look at him!"

'_I can tell, you know. What you realy want.'_

"She's right, Blaise. He looks like he can't even hear us."

_'People who drink too much have certain feelings they want to drown.'_

"Draco?"

_'The feelings you want to drown are not grief though.'_

"Boss, what's wrong?

_'It's regret, isn't it?'_

"Boss?"

_'Answer me, Draco.'_

_NO!_

"DRACO!" Pansy's loud cry could be heard echoing through the walls as everyone abruptly went silent and looked in their direction curiously.

At the center of it all, Draco Malfoy sat, finally out of his stupor with a terrible look on his face.

"Draco?" Queenie and Pansy were standing, regarding him attentively.

Flustered and not knowing what to do with himself, Draco bowed his head and raked a hand through his hair (they were shorter than he remembered)

"Sorry." he said, flinching at the sound of his own voice. It was less low than he was used to.

"Are you okay?"

"Fine." He said, shaking his head. He looked up at Pansy who had her eyebrows knitted in worry as she reached out to touch him.

Her hand on his shoulder was as real as the wood of his House table as he put his hands on it to brace himself.

"I'm okay." He assured her breathlessly, turning to his other friends who stood around him. "I'm alright. I'm sorry for that. It was- I just had a moment. It's okay now, Pansy." He told her as she was the one with the most doubt. He held her wrist lightly before pulling her down to sit gently beside him. "I'm okay." He told her with a smile.

She stared at him dumb-founded before nodding as she gazed around at the people she'd alerted before. Some of them looked away from the scene, but some were still watching.

"You don't need to go to the infirmary, do you?" Blaise patted his back as he sat down too, followed by others.

Draco laughed to assure them, finding everything about it strange and out-of-it. "I'm not sick, you know."

"Yeah, Pansy just overreacted." Blaise commented. Pansy looked a little offended at that and crossed her arms, but Draco was grateful.

"He looked weird, okay? I was worried." She said in her defense.

He held her hand gently. "Thank you for worrying." he said with a cheeky smile. She rolled her eyes, jerking her hand away. She looked around, conscious now of the people still looking their way and audibly groaned as she covered her face in embarrassment.

She mumbled something under her breath and turned her head away from their prying eyes.

They smiled and laughed and slowly, everybody's eyes went away from the scene.

_Pansy just overreacted. _They all assumed and left it that.

-0-

"Ladies and Gentleman." was the loud voice going through the walls of Hogwarts' Great Hall. Headmaster Dumbledore stood before them, looking at everyone with an air of authority and Draco recalled such a scene as this in his fourth year. It was the welcoming ceremony, right before the old coot introduced Beauxbatons' and Durmstrang's special, chosen students and their master. All ready for the Triwizard tournament. A tournament in which Potter had unwittingly participated.

He blinked, automatically turning to look and found Potter's familiar profile by the Gryffindor table. He never would have thought he would be able to see Potter at all - not in live flesh and the scene of him laughing and chatting along with his friends made something tighten his chest. The feeling was so real; Potter was so real that he gasped.

Pansy snorted beside him. "Still want to claim it's nothing?" a touch of concern shone through the side-long look she ventured on him. He looked away just as she did. He remembered now why he had initiated their relationship despite his lack of interest and attraction towards her. She actually liked him. Not Potter, not any other bloody boy but Draco. She had chosen him over Zabini's obvious inclinations toward her and it had been satisfying. The subtle love she poured in him filled him with warmth and self-serving happiness. He had never known love as closely in depth than with Pansy who was certainly a cold and nasty girl but, better than an uncaring mother or a father whose only concern was power.

"Tell me, Is it any of your business?" Draco asked with low-hooded eyes, voice low and cold. She turned and gave him a shocked look, as if she had been struck and Draco sympathized. After all, it was not as if it was her fault he was treating her coldly, but it would be better to slow her inclinations toward him before they could grow and she would become filthy from the future rejection he would likely slap on her before the fifth year ended.

While the minutes passed as her eyes skimmed his face and stared into his grey eyes intensely, searching for an answer to her unspoken question, the Headmaster had finished talking and the doors were opening, letting in a figure in a black cloak. Remembering immediately for who it was, Draco felt a nauseous feeling in the back of his stomach. Of course.

It was fourth year so it shouldn't be a surprise to him all, but somehow, it was. He felt terrified out of his mind.

There stood Barty Crouch Jr. in the disguise of an ex-Auror, Mad-Eye Moody - looking as mad and alarmingly dangeous as the last time Draco saw him. For a moment, Draco thought- hoped he was hallucinating; imagining the grey hair, the familiar way his entrance shook a thunder in the ceiling and how every student went still and quiet at the entrance of the mad man. Draco felt cold sweat prick at his back as he watched the limping man walk up to the front.

They were all unaware. Even the Headmaster. They didn't know of the danger lurking beneath that disguise.

Draco knew.

Because he realized with a start, that he was from the future and this was his past repeating right in front of him.

Draco wanted to suddenly jump off his seat and point an accusing finger at the Death Eater, to tell the people unaware around him that this was a fake but, somehow logic made it past his frozen brain and his inner self shook as he unhelpfully watched the disfigured eyes, the scarred face, and the frown that was stitched on his face like it was practiced.

Nobody would believe him, not even Dumbledore. They would just look at him as if he were crazy and then, when Draco would be alone, defenseless-

Draco was suddenly, very desparately searching for his wand and found it in his pocket. The very wand that he lost to Potter back in the manor. The memory chafed at his heart as he clutched his wand briefly in his fist for assurance before sliding his hand out. He watched as the man acting as Mad-Eye Moody hexed at the ceiling to stop the lightening.

The silence suffocated Draco as he looked at the various expressions on other students' face; awe, confusion, curiousity all wound up there.

Soon they would all be admiring the man's method of teaching and how unprofessionally he handled some situations (One of them Draco remembered quite clearly in his many memories of humiliation. He didn't miss the irony that he was the one being tortured and taunted by a Death Eater when he had warned Hermoine Granger of the same fate that night at the World Cup Quidditch.)

Then, Moody walked over to Dumbledore and shook his hands, looking as if he didn't hate the enemy of his beloved Master. Of course, he wouldn't. Exceptional acting skills, if he so thought himself. Nobody would ever suspect the man to be anything close to a Death Eater, the Dark Lord's servant. No, they wouldn't know. Not even the Headmaster could know. It was a talent he rather hated.

Malfoy couldn't tell what they said to each other, but found that he didn't care much either way. He was too busy being horrified at the latest turn of events. This was fourth year. He could change things. You-Know-Who wasn't back yet. Potter was safe and happy for once, without war wounds and Hogwarts was normal. Normally cheery. The truth battled with the image in front of him and he couldn't stomach the thought at all.

"May I introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?" the silence was torn by the Headmaster's words. He was looking far too comfortable standing in the Great Hall, considering there was a Death Eater in his beloved school. Considering the Dark Lord would be returning near the end of the fourth year, during the Tri-Wizard Tournament.

Speaking of the Tri-Wizard tournament...

After Dumbledore had their attention, he introduced Moody. Everyone looked amongst themselves doubtfully as they knew of Mad-Eye Moody's reputation and weren't sure he could teach them. But just then, Dumbledore announced about the tournament, distracting them from their doubts and worries. An excited, anticipatory, nervous energy buzzed the Great Hall, all of them seeming to forget about Mad-Eye Moody and his very disturbing appearance at the Great Hall. He saw Potter grinning while the Weaseley twins laughed and hollered about how they were going to be the champions.

_Too bad for them_, Malfoy snorted as Dumbledore started to tell them of the age restrictions.

Ah, but the only exception had been Potter. People had thought he had cheated, even his own friends but, the truth was known later to Draco when the Dark Lord returned and his father told him of what Voldemort had planned to do and how it was all Crouch Jr.'s doing. It was such an utterly wretched and untrusting world Draco lived in.

Everywhere, people wore masks.

Nobody in Slytherin would tell that they were scared of the Dark Arts but truth was, half of them didn't want to be in any part of it. Some of them acted like they belonged here, but they had doubts over it as well as any other student of any House. Draco would know. He was their self-appointed leader. He knew hesitation, could smell it from a long inch. That's why, so many times before, he always knew where to hit where it hurt most. With friends and enemies, it was all the same for him. Before.

Now, he had no idea where to stand. He knew what Draco Malfoy in the fourth year stood for but, not what Draco Malfoy of the future stood for. He eyed Potter in the crowd again; who was watching as the Goblet of Fire was revealed and the Tri-Wizard trophy was shown next. His eyes were twinkling, not like the Headmaster's, but in a more Harry Potter way. He could tell Potter wanted to participate in the tournament; could see it in his eyes as he day-dreamed of fame, glory and victory.

Draco snorted under his breath. _Potter was such a brat_.

And he would get his day-dream. All of it forced into him without Potter even knowing how and why it happened. If things went the way they did, Draco supposed people would blame Potter, accuse him, and he would lose his best friend for a short amount of time in a misunderstanding. And then, he would get help from Cedric Diggory, his other rival and do his First Task with his new broom, Firebolt.

He knew all about it because, he had always been watching Harry Potter.

-0-

That night, he dreamt. Uneasy and uncomfortable as he was in this new yet, familiar environment, Draco slept easily and dreamt- not of nightmares, but of a worrisome subject that laid its mark on him even in his unconscious.

'Did you like my gift?' Alice asked him as they walked.

Draco stopped walking. 'Why?

'_Why did you do this? I never asked you._ He wasn't willing to speak.

'Because you wished for it.'

'Leave me alone.'

'I can't.' Alice answered, looking at the side of Draco's face with what Draco knew was an intense look of want.

'You don't know what you did.' Draco said, shaking his head.

'I know what I did.' she didn't seem to be sorry. She clearly believed she was doing the right thing. Draco didn't.

'Al, I can't save them.' he said with a sigh, showing defeat like it was.

'Save who?' she looked baffled. Suddenly, her face changed to Potter's and he was looking disdainful, a perfect picture of defiance. 'This is for you. Not me or anyone. You can't save anyone. It's inevitable and you're-' Potter's face morphed into a new face. The face belonged to Professor Snape who looked in contempt at him, frowning as he finished what Potter had been about to say: '-Useless.'

He jolted awake, then.

It was still dark out and the wind was cold as he slid out of the blankets tucked over him, shivering. He looked at the occupants of his room, still sleeping and he rubbed his arms where goosebumps stuck on his skin.

_Useless_

_Useless_

_Useless_

The word echoed in his head as he sat silently at his bed, stiff and frozen for a long time.

When he snapped out of his stupor, his eyes narrowed in the darkness and he decided then and there that he was going to prove Dream-Snape wrong. He wasn't going to be useless.

_How, though?_

__Draco gave a frustrated huff of breath and fell back into the back, looking up at the dark ceiling and staring at it aimlessly.


	2. Part I, chapter two: Inevitable

**Title**: For the First time  
**Author**: Mabu  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Genre:** Romance, Angst, Humor.  
**Warnings**: Time-Traveling fiction.  
**Disclaimer**: Property of JK Rowling. Quotes from the book may be repeated in here since time is turning.  
**Author's note**: The story starts now, actually. Previous chapter feels like a prologue more than anything.

* * *

**Chapter Two; Inevitable**

* * *

When the sun came out and his classmates woke up to prepare for the new day (which wasn't really a new day for Draco because Draco was apparently stuck in time without his permission), Draco had been sitting downstairs in the Common Room with his head tilted to the side, an elbow pressed on the sofa's arm rest and looking at thin air with a bemused expression.

Crabbe and Goyle rushed out of their dorm room not soon after, their uniforms obviously sloppily worn, their school robes close to slipping off their shoulders as they stepped out. They were in a hurry, obviously, to get to breakfast. It was the first breakfast after their return to Hogwarts and they wanted to dig in as much as they could before class started. This was what their intention was for every year and their boss went with it, because he liked indulging them. Seeing as Draco hadn't been on his bed, they had thought he might be waiting for them impatiently downstairs in the Common Room (quite foolishly and predictably). Which must have made them hurry by the way they were looking around urgently, panting clumsily and carelessly.

Draco, however, upon inspection wasn't dressed.

"Boss, aren't you coming?" Goyle asked, looking confused.

Draco appraised his friends and glanced behind them to watch other fellow Slytherins come out of their dorms, dressed in uniforms, and going out the common room entrance in groups or alone. He blinked owlishly and shook his head, turning back to Crabbe and Goyle, who were giving him crushed, puppy-dog looks. They probably thought Draco was going to keep them from having breakfast early or something.

"No, you guys go ahead of me." He said with a quirk of his lips, turning away once he was sure they would listen.

Crabbe and Goyle stood for a moment of indecision before exchanging glances, shrugging and leaving while whispering about their boss' weird behavior all of sudden. But Goyle and Crabbe weren't one to think much of insignificant details and were soon lured into mindless bliss with tasty delicacies adorned on the Slytherin table.

-0-

Draco did show up at breakfast, albeit a little late. There were still things he had not yet gotten accustomed to and it wasn't that he couldn't but that, it would be so easy to get accustomed to things around him that it made him almost uneasy.

He sat at the table where Crabbe and Goyle were chugging down muffins after muffins, looking stupidly greedy for more food. Watching them, Draco's barely-there appetite tumulted to a halt. He grimaced and looked away, glancing around aimlessly when he caught sight of Potter again. The four-eyed Gryffindor hero was watching the ceiling in what could almost be anticipation. What he was waiting for, Draco soon found out, when several owls swooped through the hall, dropping letters and other various parcels with them in front of certain students at the tables. Draco's familiar eagle dropped his parcel too and swooped away with that arrogant spark in its wings.

Draco looked at the letter and the various candies in his pack and glanced at Potter who was also, surprisingly watching him with a dismayed expression. Perhaps, what he was waiting for hadn't come. Draco thought about the look on Potter's face for a bit, sitting still and eyes on the envelope.

Was Potter perhaps _envious_ of Draco whose mother always sent him some treats and letters to him? Knowing Potter's past and a bit more after the war... well, Draco didn't feel so good about the delivery and he would probably give it all away just for Potter to actually look at him without being utterly uncaring.

"Can I have that?" Crabbe was asking, looking in awe at the pack of treats in Draco's parcel this time around, and licking his lips.

Draco felt sicker than before and dropped the pack before them, frowning as he did so while both of his minions started to tear the treats out.

"Take em'. I don't feel hungry." he said absently though, his companions weren't even listening to him. He sighed and stood up, a lump burning in his throat and his mother's welcoming letter in his hand. "I'll be goin' for a bit."

How could these people be so carefree when somewhere far away Voldemort's resurrection was being planned? It was unthinkable yet, it was true. Was this how Potter felt when he had those weird visions because of his scar? Draco had heard about the situation later but he had never tried to empathize to having Voldemort inside his head all the time, making him do things and him not even realizing he was being manipulated.

He walked down the Hall, careful of not meeting anyone's eye and took a turn at the corner, stopping for a minute as he surveyed the letter in his hand. It was white and immaculate, smelling of her expensive lavender perfume and with every breath exhaling it, he realized he missed his mother. She had always been at the manor, waiting for him to return but Draco had never returned. He had rejected her when she was reaching out; when she probably needed it the most. Draco felt like a right prat, just like his father. How many mistakes had he made? Even in the future when he still had a plate of regrets to choose and discard, he had made another mistake; a mistake of avoiding his mother just because... of what?

Perhaps, it was an automatic reflex from all the dread he felt when he met her eyes and saw the sadness and misery there but also, the acceptance to what had become of them. Narcissa Malfoy loved him and that was the reason why she helped Potter, to protect Draco. That's what she told him and Draco believed her. That was also the start; the major part of the reason Draco ever gave Potter a benefit of the doubt. A second chance, maybe.

It must have been that he was miserable or that he actually thought the prat had reasons to be so paranoid and so righteously pratty but, he started to forgive Potter in his heart. Then, one day, he met The Prat Who Lived Twice, a year after the War. He had been invited at Harry Potter's nineteenth birthday, and as people gathered around, Potter had come to him and apologized for all wrongdoings, albeit in a strange Potter way.

"You've been a right pain in the arse for a long time, Malfoy and now, I relieve you of it." Potter had said with a refreshing smile, a smile that depicted a representation of growing up and having everything he never had before but, he had the patience and virtue to wait for it and in the long run, he had acquired it. Unlike Draco who still didn't feel as if he achieved a bloody thing after the War.

At that time, Draco had snorted at Potter's attempt, despite being unnerved by the refreshing smile he was being directed to. "I believe I owe you an apology too then, Potter. I apologize that you were and probably still are a dumb prat."

Potter had blinked owlishly, not looking offended but a bit surprised before he stifled a smile and said: "Whatever you say, Malfoy." he looked friendly, as if he were sharing a joke, not insults from his arch-nemesis or whatever. And then, Draco had realized that he would have liked to be a friend of this person who so clearly has dismissed his existence because they had never accustomed themselves to each other. Who could blame them, though? In a place full of adversity, old prejudices passed on by families, split up ideas for life's meaning, and secret enemies hiding among the crowd, waiting to attack at the sign of vulnerability; who had any bloody choice in the matter?

None of them could have shown vulnerability in the middle of such a tense War. It was the conflict of blood's purity and impurity to the Malfoys and other purebloods but to Gryffindors like Potter, it was about bravery and showing what you believe in- something like that. Draco never really got their idea except that they loved to do reckless things and then, blame it all on bravery. Draco would have scoffed at the notion any other time but the thing was, while Draco was running around, hiding from the Dark Lord's wrath, Potter's bravery had gained them freedom. He had freed them all from the haunts of being killed any moment. An insecure tension that was released because of Potter and his friend's stupid Gryffindor attitude.

He rubbed at his eyes. There was a wetness springing at the corner of his eyes and he flinched as footsteps echoed behind him before the intruders left without a pause. He relaxed before sighing. It wasn't time to be reminiscing about it.

Slytherins had to prove something too.

Draco didn't know where to begin.

-0-

He decided later - as he was walking to his first class, Divination with his Slytherin friends - that going with the flow was better than jumping out in the open and shouting: "VOLDEMORT'S COMING BACK! BEWARE!"

The reason why; first, that would be almost Gryffindor-ish stupidity and even if Draco might appreciate it for it's advantages, he just didn't do reckless. Second, nobody would believe him. They would pin him as a wacko and walk away, which would ruin four years worth of reputation he had built at Hogwarts in a day. That was just. Not. On. Third, Alastor Moody's impostor would probably kill him with one dangerous _'Aveda Kedavra_' and nobody would ever notice because if they hadn't noticed Moody's imposter being a brutish, evil, malicious bully than, they wouldn't notice him killing another student in the school.

Draco wanted to live, thank you very much. But either way, risks had to be taken. Sure, he could do this the easy way and wait for the best chance of defense but he knew that if he got more absorbed in his role, he would forget what he really came here for; his responsibility as an informant or some other from the future.

Also, it wouldn't be good to let everyone in on the secret that he was from the future. That, he decided resolutely, would be his own little secret.

When Draco reached the Divination class, Theodore Nott sat with him on one of the tables, without asking for permission or approval. Apparently, they were seat-partners, Draco didn't mind. Nott was always somewhat of a quiet ingrate so, it was fine to share a desk with him.

Unbidden, he took out a parchment, quill, and some ink to start writing out his plans.

Which was when Professor Trelawny (the crazy bint), came up at him and goggled his face with that unusually unnerving look in her eyes. He recoiled back as she almost tackled him with how fast her head bobbed towards his. Then, he stared at her, warily.

"You-" she whispered, looking awed.

He raised a brow, waiting, perhaps for her blubbering commentary to start, but when she didn't say a thing, just kept on staring at him, he exchanged glances with Theodore who only looked amused, and looked back at Trelawny with some trepidation. "Yes, Professor?" he asked carefully, wincing because he never considered her a Professor at all.

"You are..." came out of her mouth as her eyes went wide behind her abnormally large glasses. Her misty eyes looked troubled, as she gazed up at the ceiling before shaking her head, as if coming to some disappointing conclusion and nodded at him with a thin line on her lips.

"What?" he asked, baffled and a bit indignant at the look she was giving.

"You are not enough." she finally decided to say and that answer was 'not enough' for Draco either so he stood up and glared at her, cheeks warming with anger.

"What are you talking about, you blundering, creepy, elephantine- " he paused and saw the class looking up at him in expectation and stunned silence while Trelawny looked as if she wasn't the one being insulted. Actually, she looked as if she rather believed it too with how confusedly she was looking around, at another victim that could perhaps have been Draco Malfoy's target of frustration.

Draco's nose twitched before he huffed under his breath and sat down with more dignity than he would have as a mature adult but in a child's body, he was very much entitled to it and found, he rather felt comfortable doing it. So, what if he looked like a petulant little brat? at least, he was doing something he hadn't done in weeks. Being childish, and being bloody proud of it; that is.

"W-well, l-let's start the- lesson." Trelawny said, stuttering, looking unsure of herself and before he knew it, the class had returned to their routinely silent chatter and mindless divination lessons that some half-paid attention to and some just didn't.

Draco hardly listened, instead fuming at her words even if he was still confused about what she meant from it before his mind turned elsewhere, to Potter and Diggory and the Tri-Wizard Tournament and Voldemort.

Always Voldemort.

Draco's biggest fear - the world's biggest fear, even - would always be the Dark Lord he had been obliged to serve in those dark times, not as a servant but something filthier and more degrading than a House-elf.

-0-

When Draco came out of the Divination class and was walking down the stairs, in an unaware yet sure way, Nott commented about his next class being with a the half-oaf he remembered he had none so gently called the Professor of The Care of Magical Creatures. That was when Draco realised that his class was with this fore-mentioned half-oaf and he was already half-groaning at the aspect of it. Nott seemed pleased that he didn't have it with Gryffindors, like Draco had the misfortune of being and went away with a smug expression, casting farewell to Draco in an infuriatingly abhorred fashion.

Draco hesitated only slightly before walking briskly to the outside, to where Hagrid, the half-giant held his classes. When he drew nearer, he recognized the smaller than was normally acceptable (in Draco's eyes, at least, which had seen them turn to adults, with tall heights and broad or mature shoulders) figures of Hermoine Granger, Ronald Weasley and Harry Potter talking to the Half-Giant who, it was a relief to see, hadn't changed much as far as physical or mental appearance was concerned.

Draco didn't want to be near them, didn't want to think about all the things he would have to repeat in order to act like he usually was. Knew deeply in his bones that he'd have to insult them sometime; if only to satisfy the snarky little minions that packed at his side, obediently but watchfully (Draco knew they would report any signs at his weird behavior to their parents and then, it would reach his father's ears and there would be hell to pay. But he wouldn't blame them for it. He knew just how the Slytherin system worked from the inside. He couldn't hate it since once upon a time, he would have done it too, if only he hadn't experienced the war or his father's death, if only to get the Golden Trio's attention to him. Neither of the trio cared for Draco's less-than-amateur attempts at getting their attention since they treated him like the slimy git he probably had seemed to be but, Draco had wished fervently to go back in time to change that too. Not just his overly big advantage at saving the world before Potter could.

That was Draco's wish that Alice had come to accept for him, even if he had been unprepared of it.

She had been a good friend, for a time of Draco's when he had lived in France. She had an uncanny ability to rise above others and forgive people's misgivings just as she had Draco's not-so helpful insults about her half-breed blood and her nauseatingly Hufflepuff antics. She only seemed to smile about it, reminding him of the dazed glamour of Loony Lovegood. Except, she was more perpetual. More genius. More likable.

She had wanted to treat Draco to the utmost importance, simply because she loved him. She told him on countless moments that she did and he would see the intensity of her lust and affection all mixed in a nice package for him to take but Draco never took her offers, her consolations and soon, she realised with part-solemness that she was not the one Draco wanted, or needed, really. Draco had not denied nor accepted the idea. He had been thinking along the lines of, when he would grow out of whatever phase he was in, he would propose to her and marry her, despite all her nauseating Hufflepuff notions.

But before he could act or say anything about that, she had sent him here.

To do what, Draco had little idea but was coming close to the conclusion just as close as he dared to walk near the Gryffindor group, fear of letting them catch him standing there as they talked to Hagrid, and look at him with those glaring, suspecting eyes that could actually be ascertained to expectant even because just as his House expected it, they expected him to be snarky with them too. And when they gave him that prompting look, he hardly ever resisted. Even as an adult Wizard who had his share of eye-opening experiences, there were hardly things he could change about the nature that he grew in.

Draco Malfoy never went against the expectations he had been bound to. _Never_. He thought firmly, and then, he remembered the Dark Lord and the incident with Potter being in the Malfoy Manor, looking at him with a swelled face, unrecognisable to ones who hadn't seen him as clearly as Draco had, and he recalled hesitating. _Not deliberately, at least_. He added to his conscious but didn't feel better about anything, really.

-0-

Surprisingly, the class went by without incident. Well, as little as incident as could be with Blast-Ended Skrewts in wooden crates, biting off people's hands as they were being reluctantly fed. Draco was glad he wasn't stung or otherwise, hurt by the creatures but it hardly mattered. Somehow, he wanted to remain as inconspicuously hidden from expectations at the moment. His minions, or once called Henchmen, Crabbe and Goyle were unfortunate enough to get stung and hurt more than half the people in the class, and were thankfully not wailing about their expectations.

And he didn't know if he should appreciate it or be dismayed by it but Potter and his group hardly noticed him, hardly giving him a glance. Though, Weasley might have looked his way. He didn't turn his head in time to regard the red-head that time.

Either way, he was feeling rather put-out.

It was true, he had turned a bit wise after the Second War had been over and his father died. Imagine the hurt and agony he had to go through, the insecurity of having his home being ripped apart by Ministry officials for the reason of searching the Dark Artifacts and other Malfoy treasure that would be treated in disdain as something whole-heartedly evil in the Ministry's measly opinion, was not something Draco had put as a highly valued memory in his mind.

No, all had been awakening signs of his new state of mind.

But, he remained the same attention-hungry- starved, really- child who had been bred and pampered with much love from his parents who had always provided him with shelter, proper upbringing and rules that taught him how to deal with the world even as he was scared and unprepared of the unpredictable.

Unpredictable had always been Potter and his friends; with their antics of going invisible and scaring him half to death of the Shrieking Shack or hexing him out of nowhere with enough fervor that he passed out. Unpredictable was Voldemort coming out of nowhere and his father gleefully announcing to him how He had a plan for them.

'Oh, Draco. You don't realize how they'll suffer. All those mudbloods and blood-traitors. He'll clean us of them. He'll clean this filthy magical community of the dirt and he'll give us the high status that we deserve.'

Draco had smiled maliciously at that time, thinking of Potter and Granger and Weasley. All suffering at his hands. 'Sounds perfect, father.' he had said pleasantly and never thought about the nightmares waiting for him in the future.

How could he know? He was so young and so ignorant.

The first time Draco met Voldemort and found that red gaze boring down Draco's head, he had feared like he had never done and never will. Insanity and the urge to run and an icy paralysis hit him as he kept his head bowed with cold sweat dripping down his forehead, concentrating on trying to eject a mental barrier from snake-like hands' reach. Dread always filled him, on the disparaging days that he had to visit Voldemort with his head bowed and posture one of a servant who would undoubtedly die for him, just like Snape did, even if he hadn't been loyal from the start.

Like his father did. Draco nowadays, didn't feel anything when he thought about Lucius Malfoy's death. Perhaps, because he had thought about it so many times that by now, it was only just a passing thought. Professor Snape's death brought more fear and sadness than his father's did at the moment. It was a reminisce that filled him with respect for the man who had done so much for them, for the whole world. He had hardly believed it before but now, he knew and understood and couldn't even imagine the mental anguish it must have been; to betray and pretend- no, to believe that he hated everyone at Dumbledore's side. To kill for Dumbledore. To readily kill Dumbledore. To protect Potter, while also hating him.

Draco couldn't do it, if he were Snape. But he wasn't Snape. He wasn't brave.

_I could be a double agent._ The idea sprang up out of nowhere. He was prepared for it, because he knew Snape would be there for him, now. He would be a reassuring presence and Draco felt safe and secure just thinking about his presence there when the Dark Lord would stand before Draco.

If Draco could help it though, things wouldn't come to that.

Snape wouldn't have to suffer at the hands of the Dark Lord, his father- no, his father should rather be dead with all his hatred, greed, prejudice, and old traditions. But Draco couldn't muster enough emotion to really mean his father's death because somewhere, a part of him still loved his father. No, as a matter of fact, he would love his father for even the tiny bits of emotion of worry and tiredness he had seen in Lucius Malfoy's eyes when they had been both serving under the Dark Lord, bound ruthlessly to a vow of silence and obedience.

He would always pretend in his own mind that his father might be a good man, but that was not true at all. Draco sure had a chance to get out when he was young, but his father? No, nobody had probably offered a hand to him to bring him to the Light. Because nobody looked at the Slytherins as someone redeemable.

Well, they didn't actually help their case much either. Always bullying and taunting, taking things without a care. Draco had gotten so addicted to always having people listen to him, because that was what he learned. That he could have anything he wanted and if he wanted Harry Potter's friendship, well he could. Because he was charming, lovely, cute and rich as heck. Why wouldn't Harry Potter not want him?

He pictured the look on Potter's face when he'd offered his hand to the git and stopped himself from crouching in the middle of the hall, hiding his face in mortification.

_Lame,_ he thought. To wish to go back to the past and live it all over again. Nothing would happen like this. He had to do something, or plan at least a little something. He knew the future well, though he didn't have a lot of information on his hand, he knew more than he had let on, in the past years. He was not ignorance- abruptly, his thoughts jolted to a halt as he recalled Trelawny's words.

"You do not know enough." had she not said? Oh, for the love of god, she was a Seer. Of course, she would see from her 'Inner Eye' the future. Why had Draco not realised that until now?

Did she know? Did she see? What had she seen? Would she tell Dumbledore? Would she tell anyone?

Draco was hysterical at the end of the day as he went off to all his other classes, which didn't include the Gryffindor House. Thank god for little mercies.

But he was panicking now. She would not, he tried to convince himself but to no avail. Oh, but he couldn't worry about it now. She was a just a wild hag whose words no-one really believed, except that addled fool of a Headmaster, Dumbledore. But surely, he wouldn't suspect Draco. Surely. Oh, but he would. He would because Draco was the child of Lucius Malfoy. That practically decided your fate, even if it didn't your personal disposition to the matter.

What? He was startled into a thought: So, what was his personal disposition, anyway?

He had reluctantly stood by Voldemort's side during the war, despite the fear. If Draco said that he had hardly thought about the night with Dumbledore in the Astronomy Tower, he would be lying.

He would be lying, because in many of his exhaustive drunken slumbers, he would look up at the ceiling and wonder what would have happened if he'd accepted. Draco was no hero. He was no hero, but he had become even more distasteful in the eyes of Potter and his friends than before after that incident. No, the time that Potter's distaste actually became solid rock for Draco was after he had saved him and then, Draco had begged the Death Eaters to take him in, screaming I'm on your side, I'm on your side.

That hadn't helped his case at all, but he had been so so scared and powerless. He had felt alone and betrayed and cold from inside and outside. He would look at the strength that Potter showed even when the odds were against him and he would feel envy so strong and so acidic, it would choke him with bitterness and anger and frustration.

Draco hated the Dark Lord for the purpose he served but society hadn't done anything good to Draco either to really earn his respect. Except for Potter, who had saved him. Who had saved Draco. Maybe, it was to even the score, but something told him, Potter didn't care about those. And then, after that? His friendship and tolerance of Draco...

He hated Potter too though. He hated everything Light and everything Dark. He hated Everyone and Everything. Muggles, Magical Creatures, Wizard and his own mother. It wasn't like he really welcomed Fenrir Greyback's werewolf-ness or Aunt Bella's insane laughter to accompany him on cold, dead journeys. The only ally in all the War he had ever seen was Serverus Snape, the relying assurance of the hand he always put on Draco's shoulder when the grotesque sights before him would shake him to the very core. Problem was though, that Serverus wasn't always everywhere to be found. Once Voldemort had gotten control of the Ministry, Draco and his family were moved from here and there. All the time. There was no constancy to the stream of events happening. There was no place to stand and call safe, because they were always cowering around. Anywhere. It was like the sky was filled with Voldemort's watchful eyes and they couldn't ever escape it.

That's why it was so hard to say, move or do anything that may look bad to their Dark Lord. No-one wanted to anger him and Draco absolutely never wanted the slimy, pastly thing's attention. There was no freedom in that dark dark reign of terror.

But now, he was free. Free.

Nothing to fear except well- yes, this was the past, wasn't it? Should he be afraid of it? He had lived it before, how bad could it be to relive it again?

Just then, Draco had the first vision of his plan to get Potter out of the Triwizard tournament. And he was delighted to note, it was worthy of an amused laugh.

Oh, he would save Potter alright but in return, he would make himself famous.

Now, if only he could make Diggory disappear from the picture. Would the age-line work on a student who may be in a fourteen year old's body but was actually an adult? Draco was quite excited to see if it would. And if it didn't. Well, he could try other things. Surely, Snape would be helpful in that aspect, now that he was alive. He didn't want to think about the negative, that would just be a little thorn by his side. He could always find an innocent version of a story and approach Dumbledore with it; to become a double-agent.

He 'Hah'd at his success at finding an idea and went about humming all the way back to the the Slytherin common room. Now, all he needed was to write down a more solid plan and keep his facts right. If this plan didn't work out, he had another plan working so really, Draco had Plan A-G all ready at the fro. He was very prepared. He could take this.

After all, he was an adult now, wasn't he?


	3. Part I, chapter three: They call

**Title**: For the First time  
**Author**: Mabu  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Genre:** Romance, Angst, Humor.  
**Warnings**: Time-Traveling fiction.  
**Disclaimer**: Property of JK Rowling. Quotes from the book may be repeated in here since time is turning.  
**Author's note**:

* * *

**Chapter Three: They Call**

* * *

Alastor Moody was involved as a huge catalyst in Draco's dream that night. A nightmare lived in the recesses of his mind and it wasn't until the past memory touched his dreams that he became aware of the day he had been turned into a ferret and was treated to a great course of foul humiliation by a teacher-in-disguise. He realised it hadn't happened at all. After all, he hadn't gone to Ron Weasley with his father's demotion from the Ministry and taunted him about it the previous afternoon like the last time. What had happened that day didn't take place at all this time.

The day was gone now without Draco suffering at the hands of a Death Eater who was pretending to be mad and on the side of one Harry Potter. When he woke up to shake off the laughter still echoing inside his head at the recollection, he realised the reason the event had even occurred was because Draco was Potter's enemy and the Death Eater imposter was trying to get on Potter's good side, so the chance revealed itself by Draco's own actions that day. He was the perfect target, of course.

Barty Crouch Jr. wouldn't care a bit if Draco was Lucius Malfoy's son. It was all about the operation he was serving, for the Dark Lord. It was the perfect opportunity. But still, to this day, the memory of being controlled so dreadfully in front of an audience, to face the fear and the fact that he was a small, vulnerable animal in the hands of a man who would, most likely, kill him. He could see it in those disfigured eyes; the resentment and enjoyment of fooling around with a boy - a prat who knew nothing about the Dark Arts or Lord Voldemort at all. No, Draco, up until then, had been living the life of a Prince. Spoiled and too arsed to care about what others may feel, he was the embodiment of oblivious.

The respect he thought he had earned all this time in Slytherin was something influenced by his father's stand in the political and economic parts of the social world. And it was so easy, so easy now to get into that role. To just take what he was given, give just what he got back that he nearly forgot that it was him who had made consequences turn out around for him. He had chosen the losing side because it was the easy way. Now, he knew the winning side. And he wondered sometimes, what Potter would think right now if he saw Draco and his facade fall into nothing but truth. He would be damned surprised, he liked to think. But that was only be just a fantasy.

What was reality was that if he had been turned into a ferret, Potter would laugh along with others, pleased just like them that Draco was finally getting what he deserved.

He could hear the snores coming from Crabbe and Goyle's bed and gritted his teeth, thinking of how wonderful it would be if he had been dropped here fifth year, not fourth. He would have his own room, his own privacy and there would be no Mad-Eye Moody imposter. But the fact was, Voldemort had returned in fourth year. And that was all that made him stop mumbling and grumbling complaints about the time-traveling.

With shaky, bare feet touching the ground, he jumped off the bed and walked out of the dorm, pausing at the stairs. He leaned against the wall there and with deliberate slowness, he raised his right arm to the front and checked for the tell-tale mark on his skin.

At first, he thought he saw the Dark Mark still tainting his flawlessly pale skin but, when he blinked and focused, it wasn't there. He sighed in relief, pushing the arm away.

_What should I do_? He wondered, frustrated.

All evening, after returning from class, he had been writing plans after plans. And he had been confident they would have worked too, practically but there were always complications and risks. And when he got to pondering the purpose of his plans, he found there were too many flaws in the idea that he could walk in there and be the champion for Hogwarts. And also, because he was feeling the need to get attention now that he was here.

Dumbledore really wouldn't appreciate having two under-aged students illegally entering the tournament, nor would Igor Karkaroff or Madam Maxine, for that matter . They may have not raised debates and arguments much over Potter's admittance the last time but that was only one person illegally entering (with highly ambiguous suspicions about the boy's innocence). If there were two illegal participants, surely both of the leaders would feel most disapproving of Dumbledore. And the old wizard didn't obviously need that. What with the lack of influence his words had at the beginning of term in fifth year.

The Ministry of Magic and Cornelius Fudge obviously were too scared of what would happen if that were the case that they obviously didn't buy Dumbledore or Potter's words and sent Umbridge for some assemblance. Umbridge had been a bad idea.

Yes, Draco got power and freedom in Hogwarts during her reign of terror but she wasn't the best partner-in-crime he could ever wish for. Her habits for one, were annoying. Draco could tolerate her, like he could tolerate his Slytherin friends because that was just the way they were; nasty and evil and disgustingly smug. But honestly.

Complications didn't only just run with the Headmaster of Hogwarts, either. Serverus Snape, Draco's Godfather, would kill him if Lucius Malfoy did not. It was very easy to imagine his parents and Godfather's reaction if they found out just what Draco had gotten himself into. Sure, Draco liked to brave all tides and waves with a reckless stupidity sometimes that would even put Gryffindors to shame but his parents were the most over-protective individuals to be Death Eaters. They didn't show it; mother did, in her very subtle 'He's just a boy' way but father was very stern and subjective about things related to Malfoy pride and glory yet, even he cared.

Well, until a degree of time before the Dark Lord had returned but he realised that even before that, Lucius Malfoy had become busier and more secretive about his actions. He must have known about the operation or that Voldemort was returning. But he hadn't said a word during the tournament. The sneaky, slimy git of a father.

Sometimes, Draco liked to think that he had forgiven and forgotten everyone's mistakes and misgivings. He had convinced himself that whatever joke his father had built their lives upon, was not something he could have avoided with the way he was raised. But someone had mentioned to him that influence wasn't the only thing that mattered in a person's disposition. A person grew up and found his own answers from his own eyes. Even if Draco had been adamant on standing upon his father's belief, he had inside wondered and questioned more than thought possible but he never voiced it out loud. Defiant as he was later in the war to serve such force, he had not raised his head and met his father's steely eyes and asked- no, demanded: "Why are we doing this, father? What will come out of this?" and then, share his inner thoughts: "You will not forgive me if I say this, but I don't quite understand that creature's methods. I don't like him. Not at all. And I don't wish to serve him. He's ugly and brutal and he kills people without a reason. I don't like this cold atmosphere in my own house. I don't like him touching our treasures, our prideful jewels and throw them away without another glance. He's evil, frightening, and I don't want him in my house anymore."

Lucius Malfoy would probably kick him in the shin, disown him without another thought and walk away like he did so many times before after the Dark Lord arrived, only that time, he would walk away forever. That fear had built itself something unconditionally in his throat. He knew, from imagining that nightmare, that he would never voice out his thoughts. He would never defy his father and through him, he wouldn't defy Lord Voldemort either. After his father was dead, of course, he was able to voice out whatever he thought of the Dark Lord and his plans for the Wizarding world but, at that time, it was already too late. Potter had defeated the Dark Lord and Draco was the useless one who couldn't be a proper Death Eater nor a proper- anything! He was useless and he loathed that, detested it that whenever his name was mentioned, people regarded him as The Coward, The One Who Ran Away And Saved His Own Arse, and The One Incapable of Killing Anyone.

He was worthless and even his Potions Master saw that. Why else would he ignore Draco and teach Potter Occulmency instead? Why else would he ignore Draco after Dumbledore was killed and the Dark Lord had known about Draco's failure at the mission? Why else would he hide Potter's secrets and protect him from harm in the war, albeit subtly and with more than a lot of disdain? Draco knew the answer and knew his anger was irrational. That, it was stemmed within him to blame Potter for everything, that he would always subconsciously come back to Potter because he liked to find Potter's faults, not his good deeds or whatever else the Wizarding world worshiped in him. And he liked to hate Potter because that was better than looking at him in a new light. If he could hate Potter, he wouldn't have to think about rejection, humiliation, hope, distress, and...

He sighed, looking at the ceiling. He couldn't accept Potter. Couldn't try and admit anything because it hurt his head just thinking about it and trying to find answers while steering clear of the one area that suggested more than just- it was a big headache. He didn't want to think about. He wouldn't.

Nodding firmly to himself, he walked off downstairs, into the Common room again and stayed there just like the previous day, until the sun finally dawned in the far sky. Then, he readied himself for class, like all the other students, inside knowing that this routine was going to continue.

-0-

Herbology was mediocre against the horrors of Care of Magical Creatures but it was still one of the things Draco would cringe at. Not because of the disgusting, squelchy Bubotubers he had to squeeze the pus out of but because of the rattling complaints filling the class after Professor Sprout told them what they were supposed to do. Draco had done his fit of work on this subject already so maybe, he was less inclined to complain and he supposed it wasn't so bad with Ravenclaws and Slytherins since they weren't born whiners but after hearing the students grumbling about the Blast-Ended Skrewts in the Care of Magical Creatures class, Draco found even a bit of protest from one of the students abhorrent.

He glared down at the table during the ten minutes the students whined about their disgust and then, the class went silent and did their work, except for the occasional mewl of disgust, it was finally peace and Draco was able to do his work without a problem.

His next class, Arthmancy was with Granger who ignored him and he found himself smirking at her bushy head as she sat in front of his desk, nostalgia working its way in his head. He remembered in fourth year, his little crush (packed with a lot of denial and grudged admiration) on the book-worm. He didn't know why and how that happened but he supposed it was when she punched the snot out of him in third year when he bad-mouthed her friend, The Hippogriff. Bully that Draco Malfoy had always known to be, he was a bit of a masochist. He had later found that bit after the war when he was trying out relationships with other people. He didn't know what was there to like about people who insulted him, treated him like dirt or could probably beat him to death but it was true. He liked pain with pleasure.

Although nowadays, Granger wasn't on the top list of his supposed crushes, she was a familiar he never realized he missed until it was there. It was the same with his other former enemies. He would see Weasley, and despite his stilted opinion of the red-head, he would probably admit that he- no, never mind. He could not miss Weasley, that would be the day he decided to say he lov-

_House-Elves. That would be the day I said I loved House-Elves. And that is never._ He chided himself shakily, his heart in his throat, beating in an eerily erratic way. _Speaking of House-Elves_...

Draco glanced at Granger and smirked again. Remebering her very failed attempts at making up an Organizations for Elve Rights in fourth year, and then, the success she had after war with the same Organization that nowadays (well, in Draco's real timeline) led wizards to hardly keep House-Elves in oppressive situations anymore. They paid a respectable amount of money for a House-Elve's duties and one-by-one, the Elves were freed from slavery and doing jobs for money.

Arthmancy passed by fairly well. Professor Vector's droning lectures weren't all that bad, at least they felt reasonably nostalgic to Draco. He couldn't say such for other students who were having a hard time grasping the concepts introduced to them for the first time. Really, Professor Vector never took a break, not even on the first class.

That afternoon break, Draco took to the Great Hall in his impromptu swagger, feeling greatly relaxed now that he was getting used to the classes and the school around him. He could get the hang of it, he was sure.

"I've heard he's really good!" A student said loudly as he was passing by. He glanced at the crowd gathered around as a kid, excited, talked. "He taught the seventh-years all the really good stuff. My brother said he'd never had a better Defence teacher than Professor Moody!"

Draco didn't notice but at the mention of that imposter, his teeth clacked together in a tightened grimace. Of course. He couldn't forget that, could he? And they just had to remind him.

"Professor Moody," he scoffed to himself as he walked away. "What a pathetic wanker!"

"Boss," Draco jerked, startled to see Crabbe and Goyle standing behind him, giving him a strange look.

"What? Where did you come from?" He asked, trying not to look nervous as his heart started to calm down a bit. "Don't sneak up on me like that!"

"But Boss." Goyle started. "We were right behind you the whole time."

Draco's eyes widened in surprise. They were both giving him a worried look now. Oh shoot, he had forgotten all about his two minions.

_Shit._ "Oh." he said instead of the curse on the tip of his tongue. "So, what do you think of this Moody-guy?" He asked as a change of topic while also, sneaking glances behind him so that, if the Death Eater impostor was behind him, listening in than, he wouldn't hear any bad things they would most likely say.

Goyle shrugged. "Seems like a good teacher. I wouldn't know."

_Of course, you wouldn't know. You're an idiot who only relies on my opinion instead of thinking on your own_. Draco thought but held back the comment.

Crabbe was chewing a candy while looking uncaring. "He looks scary." were his sentiments.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I guess that's the only input I'll get from you guys." He turned around, looking at the gossiping crowd on the far wall, chattering to themselves excitedly.

"Why're you curious about him, Boss?" asked Crabbe.

Draco ignored him, instead focusing on the Golden Trio that had just now shown up. They were walking to the Great Hall, the Weasley Twins talking just like that excited kid back there, with that sparkle in their eyes. Potter was grinning at something they said and exchanged glances with Weasley. Weasley smiled like an idiot, as if imagining whatever the Twins were mentioning. Granger looked skeptical.

He jerked his head away from the sight and murmured, "C'mon." to his minions.

They followed him as he walked to the Great Hall, and reached the Slytherin table. He sighed, looking down at the table with a thoughtful grimace.

"So, how come you're not trying to torture them?" asked a voice. He looked up and saw Millicent Bulstrode leaning at the table with hands steepled together as she stared Draco down. He blinked at her. "How come you're not torturing Potter and his friends?" she repeated her question but Draco had heard her the first time.

He raised an eyebrow. "It's only been a day or two, Millie. Give them some time to get used to the air before I can pounce." she looked suspicious. Oh great. "And anyway, I'm tired of-" _being beaten around everytime I confront them_ "- Potter and all the attention he gets. It's already enough with all these people worshiping him, why must we also fuel the fire and give him our attention when he obviously doesn't deserve them?" Millicent looked thoughtful. He decided to add. "Also, I'm damned excited about the tournament, aren't you? I mean, Durmstrang and Beauxbatons are coming to our school! Just think about all the celebrities and people coming to watch the tournament."

Queenie, who had been listening in on their conversation, smiled and Draco mentally whooped in joyous victory when she opened her mouth. "I know! The tournament is going to be so amazing. I can just imagine the Yule Ball already and oh, what will the tasks be? I hope they are dangerous." she looked excited. Draco tried to look like he was listening to her while rolling his eyes at her inside. "Of course, since that old fool of our Headmaster insisted on the tournament being safe, they couldn't be bloody dangerous. But hey, you get what you can."

Draco nodded, trying to smirk and urging her on with his eyes for her to keep going.

Millicent however, was not to be deterred. "So, Draco, are you saying that you don't hate Potter anymore?" her eyes were gleaming in mischief.

He rolled his eyes. "You know I do, Mill'. The Prat-Who-Lived has been a right pain in the arse for a long time. I just-"

"Hey guys." Pansy said, sitting beside Draco with a far too chirpier tone. He wasn't sure whether to be thankful or annoyed at her interruption so, he glanced at her curiously and then, took a double-take. _Oh shit_. She was smiling.

"Hey, Pansy." Queenie greeted her while Draco and Millicent goggled, startled.

She beamed at Queenie and turned to look at Draco and Millicent, that freaky fake smile still pasted on her lips. "What?"

They exchanged glances with each other and Draco shook his head, looking away, knowing guiltily the reason she was acting this way.

"You're acting strange." Apparently, Millicent didn't know. Draco tried not to groan. Pansy looked at her questioningly. "You're _smiling_." as if it were an insult and to Slytherins like them, it was.

Pansy frowned. "What? I can't smile?" she challenged, since there was really no a solid rule saying: 'Slytherins do not smile. We smirk, sneer, smugly grin, but we do not smile genuinely. It's just not on.' but so was there not a_ Guide to Slytherin House_ either. Draco always wanted to write that kind-of book for his upcoming House-mates. He'd be famous that way, he had thought that time. Now, maybe it was a necessity.

Millicent clearly thought Pansy couldn't smile because she frowned, crossing her arms. "No, but you always smile nastily. Like Draco. But right now, you're smiling like, I don't know, a Hufflepuff maybe?"

Pansy glared balefully at her. "I can smile anyway I like and don't you dare compare me to Hufflepuffs, you ugly cow." she then looked distastefully at Draco. "And why don't you ask Draco here what the reason for my unusual smile is, huh?" when Draco peeked a look at her, she was sneering at him and then, abruptly stood up, walking away proudly until she sat at the other end of the table.

"Well, that was weird." Millicent commented idly. She looked at Draco. "What'd you do to her?"

Draco winced. He didn't even remember what he had said to her that night, but he knew they hadn't been nice words to say to someone who was only asking how he was.

Queenie saved him. Bless her soul. "Drop it, Mill'." Millicent looked affronted at being told to stop and gave Queenie the Look. Queenie just shook her head.

"Fine." Millicent said huffily before looking over Draco's shoulder with a highly peeved expression. After a bit of silence where they stayed quiet, eating, she stood up and said: "Since you're not doing anything to those prats. I will." Draco looked at the ones she was glaring at and closed his eyes.

"Don't bother." he found himself murmuring before he could bite back the remark.

"Shut up. I'm not listening to you anymore. You've obviously gone soft in the head." Millicent said brusquely and left the Slytherin table, going for the Gryffindors.

"What's she doing?" Queenie looked wide-eyed at the back of Millie.

"Apparently, taking my place." he replied as he watched Crabbe and Goyle guiltily looking at him before following Millicent as she gestured for them.

"Huh." Queenie looked wondrous before eying Draco. "I didn't know they could do that."

Draco laughed. He couldn't help it. "Honestly, Queenie, are you sure you're a Slytherin? We always have been fighting each other to take the top. Some leaders fall, others take over them as an advantage. That's how this House works."

She blinked at his amusement, looking almost upset. "Draco..." Draco gave her a confused, questioning look. She frowned. "You'll always be our leader." she insisted. "You're a great politician, Draco. Millicent or anyone else couldn't possibly take over anything from you. You're that amazing. I'm not oblivious; I know how this House works. I've heard of the stories of how one great leader's fall would be another leader's fame. But, not in a long time have we had such a constant leader. Nobody has been able to control this House like you do. You're a fourth year and yet, even Seventh years respect you. I know Pucey almost worshiped you after that Quidditch Match with the Ravenclaws."

She was looking forward now, away from Draco and at the Gryffindor table. Draco stared at her while her attention wasn't on him and rubbed his brows. When she continued to look on, he turned to see how Millicent was doing. Mid-way, his eyes caught sight of Moody and he turned back and stared as the man looked at Potter and Millicent confront each other. There was obviously some fire going on. Draco stood up quickly, leaving the table and walking over to where Potter and Millicent were.

"Mill." His voice was hard, a lump on his throat as he glanced surreptitiously at the impostor who was still watching them with that disfigured eye, waiting for an opportunity. Millicent was still spitting insults at Potter who was glaring at her hostilely. "Mill'!" He grabbed her shoulder, making her turn around and face him. She gave him a disgusted look.

"What are you doing?" she demanded. "It's bad enough that you're not acting like our leader anymore but now, you have the gall to stop me?" she looked dangerous at the moment. Draco glanced behind her at the Trio who were watching them curiously.

"Mill', this isn't the time." he insisted. She looked disbelievingly at him, even the Trio behind her were looking vaguely the same way. "I'll get Potter and his friends later. Will you listen to me when I say that?" Shoot, he bit his tongue. He hadn't meant to say that. She was looking mildly surprised now, staring at him with that thoughtful look again.

"Perhaps." then, she noticed something at the corner of her eyes and Draco followed her look, watching as Moody came clunking away at them.

"What's going on here?" he asked gruffly, giving Millicent and Draco hard looks. Draco tensed.

"Nothing, Sir." he said briskly. "We were just leaving." he grabbed Millicent's arm and she followed easily, knowing full well that they couldn't pick up a fuss in front of a teacher. Perhaps, she realized too that Mad-Eye Moody was mad enough to hex students or maybe, Draco's words had put some impact on her.

Draco didn't drag her to the table but out of the Hall instead, and she yanked her arm away petulantly when they were outside.

"What's the deal?" she asked, looking highly confused and affronted.

"We can't do anything in front of that man." Draco explained, knowing he needed to tell her something to keep her mouth shut.

"You're not afraid of him, are you?" Millicent asked, discounted. "Surely, your father can handle that piece of junk. If he tries anything on you-"

"My father will do no such thing." His father wouldn't, he knew now. His father couldn't because he knew Barty Crouch's plan and approved of that. That's why nothing happened against Mad-Eye Moody the last time. That's why he had gotten away from hexing Draco into a ferret. He wouldn't have if his father wasn't bound by the Dark Lord.

She looked startled at his sharp words. "Why? Don't tell me your father has lost influence on the Board or Ministry?"

"He hasn't." He denied, glaring at her before looking away. "My father wants me to be a big man who can take on a couple of 'kids' as he so articulately put it. So, he's decided not to help me with firing teachers. It's supposed to be training." well, it wasn't exactly a lie. His father had told him that, in sixth year when he was in Azkaban. He had sent a letter saying Draco's job now was to be a proper Malfoy. Whatever that meant.

Millicent obviously didn't believe him. "Right." she crossed her arms. "But I suppose you were right to get me away from there. That madman was eying us strangely, as if daring me to make a move and he would poof us all. It was eerie." she shuddered.

Draco watched her and she stared back, they connected for a moment there before they looked away. The bell rang. Draco's shoulder sagged in relief and he said: "later." to Millicent who nodded and watched him go.

At first, he wasn't sure where he was going until he found his brain giving him an alarming message. He had Defense!

"Boss! Wait for us." called his minions from behind. He looked back at them and wanted to groan again. Why?

The previous day hadn't been this eventful and now, he was dreading that it was going to get just much worse.


	4. Part I, chapter four: Better than now

**Title**: For the First time  
**Author**: Mabu  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Genre:** Romance, Angst, Humor.  
**Warnings**: Time-Traveling fiction.  
**Disclaimer**: Property of JK Rowling. Quotes from the book may be repeated in here since time is turning.  
**Author's note**:

* * *

**Chapter four: Better than now**

* * *

Few days had passed by since the incident with Millicent and Mad-Eye Moody. Draco was still waking up before others, earlier than seven and sitting out in the Common Room, waiting for thoughts to swirl and caress his mind. The routine was tiring him, but he felt if he didn't follow the routine, he would fall back in an operation. He felt alerted every step of the way, walking in Moody's class and listening to his lectures, Draco tried to think that this person was not an enemy who would turn him into a ferret any day, but an ex-Auror who was bloody nutters. That didn't much help either way.

It was while Draco was wondering on his base of plans that he decided to get some help. Millicent was slightly suspicious but was generous enough (He wouldn't call it generous, technically. But she had been courteous enough, that was something) to give a few pointers.

"What if I wanted a teacher out of this school?" he had asked in his not-so subtle way.

Millie had looked at him blankly. "Tell your father of him, of course. Haven't you already tried that before with that half-giant?"

_Yes. He had. Though, it didn't exactly work out, did it?_ He didn't deign the inquiry enough to even give a proper answer. He just stared back at her, one eyebrow raised.

She shook her head soon enough. "Right, your father's power doesn't exactly work against that old coot." She was referring to Dumbledore. Nobody at Slytherin really liked the Headmaster. Everyone had seen how completely biased the man had been in Draco's first year and they had decided to dislike the man from then on. Draco's hatred of him on that day had been much more intense than others, though. A hatred that had been dampened by the calm, vulnerable profile he saw of his Headmaster who had always kept a strong back, eyes twinkling like soft stars, on that Astronomy Tower. The vision still haunted him. He could not find enough strength to hate the old wizard now.

"So? You want to get Moody out of here?" she asked bluntly.

It wasn't exactly a secret that Draco Malfoy disliked Mad-Eye Moody even in his previous fourth year. This time, he didn't exactly try to hide his displeasure either. It couldn't be helped. Whenever he saw the man, his stomach started churning unpleasantly in a mixture of fear, dread and anger that made him frown or sneer unpleasantly. Anger, because this man was the one who had been the indirect and most important part of bringing Voldemort to power again. Voldemort who had not only destroyed every innocent's home but also, ruined Draco's family. Draco didn't care about innocents, but when he had to watch it happen to them (family was always 'them', never 'him' or 'me'), he hardly felt uncaring. Actually, most of the time, he felt like retching his guts out. And he would, after the act was done and he was alone in his bedroom where he'd run towards the bathroom and take out all the unappealing food he had forced down his throat hours ago. Sometimes, he didn't reach the bathroom soon enough and threw up all over the carpets. The House-Elves would clean it up without a comment, but the nasty smell somehow still lingered in his stale, suffocating room.

He had been a mess then. He was still a mess now.

"Yes, Mill'. What do you think? I want that bloody madman out of here." Draco said with a jerk of his chin and arrogantly crossed his arms. "He irks me. And my brain's not working correctly these days. I can't find a simple solution and start thinking of grandiose plans which probably isn't helping a bit." Grandiose plans, like entering the Tri-Wizard Tournament or his new one, kidnapping Potter, locking him somewhere safe where his blood could not be reached, and turning into Potter while entering the tournament. Both were stupid and entirely too reckless for words.

Millicent snorted derisively. "I'll say. If you can't even figure that out, you really must be far gone." he glanced at her curiously. She leaned forward and stared at him with a hard look. "Tell me, Draco, what is it with you these days? Have you been possessed or something? because honestly, even if I can see that some of you is still the same, the other part of you is entirely too strange." He frowned at her words, wondering what parts of him shone true and which weren't. But he pushed those thoughts away. He wasn't discussing this for his sake.

"I will admit, that I'm feeling not like myself lately." He said, eyes stony and determined. "So, will you tell me what I need to do?"

Millicent shrugged. "Same thing you did last year with that half-oaf. Though, it didn't work quite mightily, you still managed to kill that filthy Hippogriff and it had caused quite a bit of fuss up there." when Draco only stared at her, she decided to elaborate. "Manipulate, Malfoy. Forgot that? Acting like the half-breed was a big bad wolf and you know, working your magic from there. You always managed to kick up a fuss with perfect acting skills. I don't know if you plan it or not. but they work brilliantly, most of the time."

Draco sighed, disappointed. "Mill', I know acting will help with this but-" he stopped, an idea coming to him. His eyebrows scrunched and Mill' watched him, bemused as his eyes cleared a bit. "Oh. Oh, that could work."

She raised her bushy eyebrows. He looked at her before nodding at her. "Thank you, Mill'. I'll just leave now." his thoughts were racing, and he couldn't let them run out on him so he rushed off the Common Room and went to his dorm room.

Yes, the acting might not help enormously but it was a step forward. Draco checked his magical Calendar, tracing down to the day that their guests from other schools will arrive. It was after Halloween. He had two months. He could do it. He could make Moody go away before the Tri-Wizard tournament. This could work.

Now, he only had to find his inner obnoxious Malfoy again. He could do that. Clever Slytherin that he was, he had buried the previous Malfoy somewhere in the dust. But he was there, still wanting to cave out and he was very pleased to find that the insufferable git was amazingly alive and kicking. Huh.

Well, would you look at that.

-0-

"Good morning, _Potter_." Smirking, Draco approached the group with his two little minions by his side, arrogantly striding through the hallway. The crowd watching from the sidelines backed away warily, knowing what was coming before it even happened. Potter and his own minions turned to look at him disdainfully. He was brimming with excitement as he approached Potter. "It's been a while, hasn't it? How has your pathetic life been without me?" when Potter only glared at him, his smirk stretched wider. "I suppose you wouldn't be too well. What with Weasel and Mudblood here to bother you." The insults sounded so weird on his tongue that he bit back a wince. It had been a long time since he had to use those words again. "But then again, it seems they don't bother you. Must come from the genes, I suppose. You know, how blood traitors stick together with blood traitors and Mudbloods. The world of Potter and his little friends is so perfectly straight, right?" His Slytherin friends sniggered behind him. Potter was glaring, fire still held within his eyes. Weasley was scowling. Granger was just glaring at him detachedly. Not at all bothered. He liked that about her but right now, he needed their blood boiling.

"Come on, Harry." She caught the dark-haired boy's sleeve lightly, insisting: "He's not worth it."

Draco laughed. "Oh, but Granger, I am worth every penny." and he meant it. He smiled with his mouth open, the tip of his tongue touching the base of his molar. It was a new haughty facial expression Draco had learned to put on. "I am the most amazing thing that can ever happen to your worthless little world full of Weasley babies and House-Elf freedom protests." He feels the prickle of everyone watching him, but mostly, he only cares for one gaze. "I, Draco Malfoy, you will find later in life, will be fun. And you, the biggest book-worm in the history of Hogwarts-" he snickers at this point. "You will be a wife of a poor Weasel." His Slytherin friends hollered big laughs. He smiled in victory.

Granger's face had tinges of pink on them and she was opening her mouth to retort but falling short. Weasley was looking like a bull, ready to hit his target. "Why, you-"

Potter stepped before him, suddenly coming much closer to Draco than Draco would prefer, personally. But he could cope with it. He sneered down at Potter. Goodness, he was taller than Potter. The world before amazed him.

"At least, Malfoy, my life couldn't be as miserable as yours." Potter snapped. Draco smiled though, the comment was hitting a bit too close to home. "I bet you will be rotting in the caves of hell, poor and friendless after all these so-called friends of yours leave you and then, you'll be left sucking on your thumb, calling for Daddy and Mummy again and again."

Draco didn't like the fact that Potter, though may not be aware of what he held against Draco's, could still pin-point every insecurity without thinking about it. "Oh, but Potter. I'm not the one who clings to Mummy and Daddy. You are the one who craves parents and love and nauseating affection." oh shoot, his mouth was running off on him. The Malfoy venom was there, though, so maybe he was doing this right. "Tell me, Potter, do you miss your Mummy and Daddy?" When Potter glared warningly at him, the fire in his eyes almost blazing, he gasped mockingly- unable to help himself. "Oh, I forgot, you don't have one."

That was the limit. Potter bloody exploded. Things went out awry in the air around them. Buzzing and wavering, the magic around Potter was sparking in fury now and it was all directed at Draco. Ah, he had never been that much hated by Potter. He must have pushed the right button, then. A very explosive right button, but right button nonethless.

Draco heaved down his trepidation and took out his wand, his minions had already run away from Potter's not-so stable area. Potter's friends had also, backed away cautiously. They didn't probably know what Potter was capable of, but they had the idea

"Honestly, Potter. Are you a child? Have you never been trained to manage your magic? It's bloody going everywhere." Granger was giving him an incredulous look of both warning and disbelief. He only smirked. In the face of this beautifully dangerous spark of fury, how could he keep his excitement at bay? "Oh but then again, you never had any 'proper' guardians to teach you. As for me, I was trained by_ my father_."

Draco knew it was coming before it came so he took the hit and fell to the ground, Potter straddling him with manic eyes. Green eyes fully raging and so heated that everything minimized to his own person. Potter's powerful magic was enveloping all around Draco. He grunted, feeling twinges of pain as Potter clutched hard into his arms and stared at the boy above him before showing off his wand again, watching from the corner of his eyes, confirming that Moody was coming their way. He had told Nott to lead the Professor slowly and sure enough, the teacher was coming.

Now, for the excruciatingly laborious work. Draco pushed his whole strength in off-balancing Potter off him and straddled the boy's stomach instead. Smiling menacingly into the red-faced, glaring Gryffindor under him, he took out his wand with a charm ready at his lip.

"Oh no, you don't!"

BANG!

Before he knew it, he was hexed off Potter and flying off the other wall. He let the teacher transfigure him with dread showing in his eyes and then, he was being levitated - his small, furry body barely up the surface of the ground. Tangling up in thin air, Draco experienced his nightmares again - relived them with expected dread and yet, unpredictable fear. His heart beating fast, Draco didn't dare look up into Mad-Eye Moody's eyes. Instead, he whimpered and cried and well, flailed; he realised even if he weren't pretending or wasn't willing, he would still have reacted similarly or as close to it as he could. So, he cried and sobbed, his pride wound up into the corner of a basin, washed down like grain does when rain falls. Draco thought it would last forever, the blurry sight, the unnatural body he was in and the lurch of his stomach as he was moved from one place to another fast with the swish of Moody's wand. The only thing keeping Draco from being utterly hopeless was his plan and the students that had gathered around. Granted, they were all laughing or cheering as far as he could tell from his hearing but they were witnesses and that was all he needed from them at the moment.

Finally, someone did come to his rescue. It was Professor Snape, looking angry and disapproving of the wizard in front of him. And when Draco transformed back to his normal body, breathing heavily and carrying on with his sobs and whimpers, he eyed Snape and caught a glimpse of almost wary fear. _Oh god. _Draco panicked. _please don't let this be bad._

Draco had been hoping for- counting on Professor McGonnagall to show up again at Draco's pathetic humiliation, saving him reluctantly from the clutches of an evil Death Eater. He wanted to groan in frustration and huff at his plan going awry and decided that he was stupid. But still, students around were watching so Draco gave the best show he could possibly give in his terrified, panic-driven mind state. He cried, tears down his face and whimpered, staring up fearfully at Mad-Eye Moody who was staring down at him distrustfully, and speculating.

The man was so bloody stupid and reckless. Draco couldn't believe he fell for it! Draco wanted to laugh joyously but instead, whimpered, lowering his eyes. He couldn't look at Snape. The man would probably be disapproving of this. Right, like Draco cared.

W_ell, he actually did_. His conscience decided to add helpfully.

"Control yourself, Mr. Potter." Oh, he had almost forgotten about Potter. He sneaked a glance at Potter whose arms were restricted by Weasley's arm around his shoulder and oh, Professor McGonnagall was here, after all. Draco's latest panic vanquished. He never thought he would be happy to see that stern witch again, but he was.

Potter was still looking quite angry and probably still up for charging by the look on his face. Draco realized nobody was laughing now, he wondered when they stopped. Barely able, he peeked through his damp eyelashes and found Granger looking at him thoughtfully and he realized that maybe, his performance was a bit over the top.

Well, if he could get sympathizers, that would be great.

"Draco. Draco!" that was Pansy, running towards him urgently. He had decided to add her to the plan in the end. She had been reluctant and suspicious, but when he apologized and explained to her properly why he had behaved so rudely before, she accepted it and decided to help him. Girls were so simple (he had told her he was gay).

She came around and hugged him as he numbly sat there in her arms. "Oh god, what happened to you?" She was looking over at him in concern, the perfect actor next to Draco, she was.

Draco didn't stare at her, but he knew he would praise her, later. Right now, he was busy convincing everyone that he really was the victim this time and that Moody was an evil, evil man. And he was. Despite who he sided with and what he did. He was evil because he was an imposter and a Death Eater. Stupid school, not realizing that at all. Very stupid. Good thing they had Draco here to tell them. Idiots, all of them.

Moody looked quite like a kid who had lost his treat and was pouting in a disturbing way while McGonnagall scolded him for his treatment of a student.

Draco let out a loud whimper. McGonnagall glanced at him in sympathy and turned back to put double effort in her scolding. Oh, this was the day to be remembered.

"Pansy." He said hoarsely, his throat felt quite parched now. "I-I-I need..."

Pansy nodded, knowing this was her cue now. So, she held her arm out for him and gestured for his minions to come, who remained behind Draco while Pansy shouldered him out of the scene and out of public eye. When they were out of scene, Draco was the first one to laugh. Pansy giggled. Millicent came running towards them, hollering in delight.

"Merlin." Millicent choked while laughing. "You've outdone yourself, Draco. If I hadn't known about this plan, I probably would have pegged you weren't acting at all." And Draco should probably not share the fact that he really wasn't much of acting as much as going along with the flow.

Crabbe and Goyle laughed, first reluctantly before fully, getting the idea that the act was over now. They also must have thought Draco was for real. Well, for their sake, Draco wouldn't tell them.

He shook his head and sighed, breathing deeply. "I really want to go to the dorm now. Too much action for today."

Pansy clutched his sleeve. "You were great today, Draco. Brave, even." she gave a sly little smile, scrunching her nose a little. "It was weird, watching you there. It was like- it was like, it was brilliant. And it seemed so-"

"Real." Millicent smiled shakily before looking over at Draco, gaze assessing. "Perhaps, too brave. Who told you to push Potter that far?"

Draco didn't answer, leaving for the dorm as they followed him.

Soon, they were in the Slytherin Common Room, all of them joyously celebrating the day where the Slytherin's plan worked out so spectacularly. Since Potter's arrival at Hogwarts, Slytherins were being treated quite differently than others and always ended up losing sides of arguments and contest. Now, they would have their chance, under Draco's reign.

Yes, he had officially become their leader. Draco was proud of himself at some level but more than that, he was just a bit bemused.

What the hell was he thinking, indeed! Who told him to push Potter so far? He wanted to be on Potter's good side, not the worst one. Granted, it was necessary but did he have to be so completely personal about it? He supposed now that he knew Potter's history and all other weaknesses, he tried to use it on his side. Potter was such a baby, beating other people up just because, his dead parents were mentioned.

Draco would probably do it again.

-0-

Professor Snape wasn't the slightest pleased with what Draco got up to. When he entered the Common Room, he shooed off all of Draco's well-wishers and gestured for Draco to follow him in his office. Draco complied, although a little reluctantly, knowing from the narrow compress of Snape's lips that he was holding down the urge to scold Draco like a nagging parent. He may be Draco's Godfather, but he was still Serverus Snape, known to be a cold, cruel, and calculating teacher who was shrewd, skeptic, and dry. Doing anything uncharacteristic like _scolding_ would be inconceivable.

They reached the office and Serverus' face broke into a displeased frown, clearly directed at Draco who tried not to fidget under the scrutiny.

A few days ago, in Potions class, Draco had swore to himself that he would do his best not to put the Potions Master in the service of the Dark Lord and Dumbledore like the last time. He had been contemplating, then. Thinking of his mentor's tragic end that had not been deserved, nor had he deserved the pressure of being a Double Agent or keeping an Unbreakable Vow for Draco's protection just to keep appearance. He hadn't deserved the fate of killing Dumbledore with a forbidden curse that forced one to put all their hatred, pain, and frustration into a blow. A whisper and _crash_. When looking at the greasy-haired man before him, sometimes Draco could not help the guilt and sadness that seized his chest. And then, he would have a vivid picture of Potter bellowing Snape's name, calling him a traitor and other expletives that Snape took in stead, his back as straight as it had always been. Draco couldn't imagine how he had taken it all and not died right then. How many wounds had Serverus put himself through, Draco could never fathom. Maybe, Potter had some idea. Though, Draco couldn't be quite sure because, Potter was a Gryffindor and only a Slytherin understood a Slytherin fully.

But even Draco couldn't understand the position. He had never been a complete spy. Never a favorite of the Dark Lord's. Never a double agent. And Draco realized he would do it just to see the pain Serverus went through. He cringed at the thought, imagining himself in the same limp of dead-less weight as Snape's had been when he had died from the Dark Lord's wand.

"Mr. Malfoy," Snape hissed and Draco realized he was lost in the reality that was now in front of him. So real did Snape's alive body looked when just a moment ago, Draco was reminiscing his death. "Your attention, if you please." when Draco focused on him obediently, his expression softened a bit. "Now, tell me what kind of blasphemous reason made you take this initiative?"

"Initiative?" Draco was dubiously confused. Snape glared at him balefully.

"Your act, Mr. Malfoy. Don't think I was unaware of what you and your friends had been up to." Snape sneered distastefully. "I can understand your need to put Mr. Potter in his right place-" here, he paused, his sneer growing more pronounced. "-but, I find it incomprehensible why you had to involve Professor Moody in your act." when Draco was about to open his mouth to reply, Snape interrupted. "And don't think I'll believe you when you claim to have nothing to do with it."

Draco blinked up at him, innocently, feeling like a first-year again. He moved his mouth but when no sound came out, he closed it, looking down. "I don't know, Professor."

Snape made an impatient noise at the back of his throat. Draco looked up at him. "What do you not know, Mr. Malfoy?"

His mentor was giving him a narrowed look and Draco avoided meeting his eyes. "I... dislike that teacher."

Snape raised an eyebrow. "Surely, you can't be so dense, Mr. Malfoy. I did not ask you what you think of Professor Moody. I asked why you_ planned_ for him to treat you such a way."

"Ah." Draco gulped. "Surely, it doesn't matter. I mean, it's done."

"Your father will be most displeased." said Serverus.

Draco snapped his head to look at Snape quickly, heart racing. "You aren't going to tell him, are you?"

Snape assessed him for a moment before looking away. "No, Mr. Malfoy. I will not tell him of your...plan. But it would be best if there is no repeat of this episode. Your mother should already be receiving the news of this event and I am sure she would not overlook it as something uninteresting. But I suppose that is what you want."

"No." Draco shook his head. "I didn't think."

"Didn't you?" Serverus quirked a brow, nothing in his expression changing except for that. "I must say, Mr. Malfoy, that was a well thought-out plan but it doesn't change your situation. You should be ready, I'm sure tomorrow will be a busy day."

"Wh- How?" asked Draco, baffled.

Snape looked even more disdainful than he did before. Displeasure was evident on his face. "Mr. Malfoy, you have caused quite an uproar among the students." Draco's eyes widened. "Not only did you manage to make Potter lose control of his magic in the middle of a hallway full of students but, you also managed to grab a paranoid ex-Auror's enmity."

"He'll kill me." Draco said as if he just realized it, and he did. God, he hadn't thought of the consequences so much as he wanted to show the students what a madman Moody was. And possibly make Dumbledore suspect his motivations and perhaps, start theorizing. Of course, Draco knew Dumbledore wouldn't so easily suspect but he had tried to make it spectacular. And spectacular it had been.

The Potions Master had nothing to say to that. "You are dismissed. Return to your dorm and rest, you'll need it."

Draco grimaced, distress showing as he slowly turned around and walked out without a word of acknowledgement. He was so dazed that he didn't notice until he was in the Common Room that Nott and Zabini were looking at him with raised eyebrows.

"What?" He asked, feeling self-conscious all of a sudden.

Zabini shrugged, Nott kept looking at him before saying: "What did Professor Snape want?"

"Nothing important." Draco answered as casually as he could before turning to leave for the bathroom. He could feel them watching him as he left and wondered if it showed that he wasn't the Draco they knew anymore.


	5. Part I, chapter five: Down you go

**Title**: For the First time  
**Author**: Mabu  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Genre:** Romance, Angst, Humor.  
**Warnings**: Time-Traveling fiction. Slow, gradual progress to the main pairing (which is Harry/Draco)  
**Disclaimer**: Property of JK Rowling. Quotes from the book may be repeated in here since time is turning.  
**Author's note**: I have nothing really to add. Enjoy and be happy, this fiction is definitely not tragic.

* * *

**Chapter five: Down you go**

"Marks a battle,  
still feel raw.  
A million pieces of me, on the floor.  
I'm damaged goods for all to see.  
Now who would ever,  
want to be with me?"

Exit Wounds by **The Script**

* * *

It was the first night after Draco had returned back in time that he had a dream that wasn't about the future or the past or anything related to time at all. What it was about was hazy and a blur to Draco but he knew it was a new dream. A dream that sucked all his breath and left him panting in the middle of the night, eyes wide open and lying, muscles tense on the bed as he sat up on his forearms. The clock was ticking somewhere in the darkness and he wondered when the time for him to return to his own time would come. Would it ever? Or was he stuck in this fourteen year old body, waiting- wanting to grow? To have someone around him that wasn't fourteen and stupid and so completely in their own time- Draco realized he was whining and scolded himself for complaining about the circumstances.

But he couldn't help it. He felt like throwing a tantrum right that moment. He wished to be in front of his Mother and tell her that it wasn't his fault he was here. He didn't even want to be here!

_'It was Alice, Mummy! It was all her, not me! I've got nothing to do this. I don't want to be stuck here with these amateur Slytherins for company. I'm supposed to be in my own time, brooding or doing something productive with my life. This isn't my life._' But who was he kidding? This was exactly where he could do something productive because back there, stuck in Berlin, he had been going out, getting drunk, grumbling about life's unfairness to Alice, and avoiding every Wizard from Britain that could ever recognize him. He had not contacted his Mother for quite a while and had remained resolute on not contacting her either, despite her insistent floo calls that he never took.

Alice had never bothered to tell him of his unhealthy negligence. She was a stranger to him, as far as he was concerned. She was from Britain too, but for some reason, she had come to Berlin too. They had met in a bar, ordering the same wine at the same time. Surely, that must have been fate. He remembered she smiled widely and said: "You're Draco Malfoy, aren't you?"

Draco, who had been at Berlin for the mere reason of keeping an obscure profile, had been panicked and had feared the worst. Looking around for any Aurors who would probably again like to use him and throw him aside like a pariah, Draco gave her the perfect reason to start questioning him.

And in the end, it was his story that was known and hers had remained complete mystery. She did tell him about herself but not much. He knew she liked him, that's why she kept on chatting him up every time they met. And then, there was that night when she asked him, completely innocent, what he would wish for. Draco scoffed at the idea, that he would wish for anything at all would be stooping too low for a Malfoy, he had said.

He realized though, at that time, that the Malfoy within him was dead. He had not lived long enough to keep his Father right where he wanted, to keep him proud because from the moment Potter entered the picture, from the moment Voldemort came back, life was starting to become utter hell. Draco blamed Potter for it, still sometimes he couldn't help but do that. Potter was an insufferable git who entered their life as if it were his own right and messed it all up by fighting Voldemort and saving Ginny Weasley and- merlin knows how many poor forsaken souls he had saved?

And then, he had to befriend Granger and _Weasley_. He couldn't find the problem in that, except they were extremely annoying and exceptionally Gryffindor, but he would bet there was something very wrong with Potter's choice of friends. Not that Draco was still bitter about _that_. It was all in the past. Draco didn't care at all about some messy-haired, dirty little kid with scars on their forehead rejecting his hand of friendship for the hand of friendship from some poor sod. They could just bugger it off, for all Draco cared.

Because Draco didn't care at all.

"Draco?" A voice called from the dark room, Draco jumped. _Who?_

"Zabini?" He asked for confirmation in the darkness.

"Yeah." there was a rustle and then, Zabini was sitting up on his bed. "Care to tell me what you're thinking about?"

"No." As a Slytherin, there was an unwritten rule of not asking one another of their welfare or personal conflicts. Slytherins dealt with their own problems, themselves. Apparently, Zabini wasn't aware of that rule.

There was a sigh. "Alright. Just- you looked a little weird there. Are you sure you're alright?"

Draco felt a bit indignant for an adult. "Of course, I'm alright, you twat!"

"Ah." Blaise yawned a bit before settling back into bed. "You should go back to sleep. I don't know about you, but I'm... dead sleepy."

Draco's lips narrowed into a thin line and he glared at the patch of bedsheet he could see in the dark room and continued glaring at it as Zabini's breathing evened out and he slept off, unaware of the burning darkness sparkling off him.

_Life was so bloody unfair_. Thought Draco as he closed his eyes and settled, defeated, back into bed.

Surprisingly enough, just as he settled back, he was able to sleep without a problem.

-0-

It was Breakfast at the Great Hall when Pansy came to him with a displeased look, glaring down at him while putting the _Daily Prophet_ on the table. He couldn't even catch a glance of the Headlines before she shouted: "You LIAR!"

Behind Pansy stood Millicent who was wearing a smug smile on her lips with crossed arms. When she noticed his glance, she winked at him. The bitch!

"Pansy," he started. "What are you talking about? And could you be any louder? I'm sure even the walls heard you."

She narrowed her eyes at him before sitting beside him, roughly shoving his elbows out of the way. Some of the students in the Great Hall were starting to stare. "You said you were gay just so, I could stop hanging around you, didn't you?"

Draco knew this was about that but still, he felt his mouth go open in disbelief. Honestly, this was what she was worried about? "Wha- Pansy, that wasn't a lie." he insisted, shaking his head exasperatedly.

Her face scrunched up in an ugly look and she pushed at his chest. He stared at her, baffled. "Stop lying! How should I even believe you? You have never been interested in blokes before and I have been watching you, Draco. It couldn't have been this summer either because you were flirting with me and other girls on the train. What changed so suddenly that you're pushing the idea that you like blokes now?"

_I did._

His eye twitched in annoyance before he sighed, looking away from her and stroking his smooth chin contemplatively.

He could feel her impatient gaze on him but ignored it as he surveyed the Slytherin table, glancing behind just for a glimpse of that insufferable git and saw him curiously looking over their table now. He wasn't looking angry now so maybe, he wouldn't charge at Draco like before. One couldn't be too sure. Draco took a second glance around the Slytherin table and came to a conclusion. He stood up, wishing it was Potter he was walking toward, not where Marcus Flint was sitting with his crowd of sixth-year friends, all looking up as Draco approached. Flint was a good-looking bloke and probably the only one at the moment that Draco was obliged to choose.

"Hey, Flint."

"Draco." Flint nodded at him.

Draco smirked at him seductively, leaning as he opened his mouth and watched Flint's eyes widening. "Hope you don't mind but-" he leaned close and pressed his lips against Flint's, eyes closing for a moment, just imagining Pansy's expression as she watched and then, for whatever reason, Potter's. "Pansy wanted me to demonstrate my sexual preference." he whispered in a low voice, his mouth brushing against the others as he spoke. Flint made a noise and Draco meshed their lips together, keeping his eyes closed. He wanted to imagine Potter right in front of him, looking wide-eyed and so close for Draco to kiss. He would probably push Draco away. Draco pressed more insistently on Flint's frozen mouth and felt it responding hesitantly. Draco decided just for his ego, that he would let this snog last as long as he could. So he settled his hands on Flint's shoulders and opened his mouth, sipping on the smooth ones that were opening more boldly now. Draco gathered his hands behind Flint's head, trying to imagine what Potter's hair would feel like on his fingers and he let his tongue lap at the lips against his. He licked and sucked, passion prickling beneath his skin as he tilted his head to the side and sucked at the lips now gasping under him.

There was a clearing of throat.

He sighed and removed his hands from Flint's head, pulling off and standing straight as he turned to stare lazily at Professor McGonagall who was giving him a very disapproving stare.

"Mr. Malfoy," Yes, Mr. Malfoy, indeed. He smirked.

"It's not Flint's fault. I attacked him." He said, matter-of-fact. Her eyebrow rose, the only feature on her face that wasn't stiff. She looked evidently reproachful. "Right, Flint?" he asked the boy staring wide-eyed at him and was answered by a gulp and a nervous nod.

Draco looked towards his Professor as she seemed to debate how to react. "I see." she glanced at all the students watching them and seemed to have found her wits. "Fifteen points from Slytherin. And Detention for you, Mr. Malfoy."

"Yes." He nodded at her with an innocent smile. She bristled at the sight and gave one last look at the two boys before turning away.

"I'll see you in detention, then." and then, just as she had come, she left.

Flint breathed a sigh of relief, his cheeks tinted pink as he peeked at Draco before speaking: "So..."

"No." He rejected with a polite smile as he backed away and left the sixth-year without looking back. Sure, Flint may be older and maybe, slightly mature but it wasn't right. Not when Potter was here, right there.

He glanced again at Potter and found him already looking away. He tried not to let that bother him and strode over to Pansy confidently.

"So? Do you believe me now?" He asked.

Pansy stared at him blankly before huffing. "Isn't you father going to chew you out for that?"

Draco started, looking like he just jolted out of a dream. "What?"

She gave him a look. "Your father, Draco. Won't he kill you for what you just did? You just basically announced to everyone publicly that you're gay." shrugging, she added. "It wasn't the smartest move you could have made."

Draco felt like slapping himself. He had been so accustomed to being free of the Malfoy name and having his Father dead and buried long ago that it was hard to find panic of that sort. Sure, he felt panicked that perhaps, his plan wouldn't go as smoothly now. He probably had to confront Lucius' disapproving, steely glare and listen to him talk about honor and marriage and what-not. It wasn't as if Purebloods had a problem with homosexuality. No.

But his father would still expect Draco to produce a heir. Which wouldn't be possible with a homosexual son.

Oh god.

Draco could kill himself. And the worst thing was, he had Dark Arts this afternoon.

-0-

Draco still wasn't swept off time and coming back to his present where he would be sitting in the bar, drinking and minding his own business. No, he went through the whole day without any incident and entered the Class of Doom. Thankfully, Moody didn't notice him coming or maybe, had decided that Draco wasn't worth his time because he immediately started lecturing the kids about the Imperius Curse and saying his favorite motto: "Constant Vigilance!"

Then, much to Draco's horror, he announced that he would practice the Imperius Curse on them. Granger was protesting that it was illegal but he would have none of it.

"Dumbledore wants you taught what it feels like." He said in his defense. _Did Dumbledore really? _was on the tip of his tongue.

Draco remembered this part of the lesson and should have been happy since this was the part where he got to show off how resistant he was to the Imperius Curse, but Moody was looking at him in a particularly bad way. Draco decidedly put himself the last person in the line of students who were obviously interested and curious to see the Imperius Curse done to them. It was nothing really to look forward to if you couldn't resist it. If you could resist it in a class though, you could boast about it but he found nothing really good happened when you were controlled against your will.

Sure, there was false pleasure in completing the task but once you opened your eyes to reality, the humiliation, the betrayal and everything you did in between while in control- Draco didn't have much experience in being a victim of this particular curse, but he had tried it on many innocent people. Madam Rosmerta came to mind.

He still couldn't face the woman. Even now.

It was when Moody growled: "Potter," that Draco jolted out of his thoughts and watched as Potter stood before Moody to be tested for his resistance.

"_Imperio!_" Draco watched as Potter listened for half a moment to what Moody was ordering him to do: "Jump onto the desk." He had been ready to do it too from what Draco could see. Then, he paused, his brows furrowing as if fighting internally. Moody's eyes gleamed in a way at that and Draco knew Potter was resisting but he was too young and in the end, ended up falling off on one of the desks in his struggle.

"Now, _that's_ more like it!" Moody was clearly gleeful. Why, Draco wasn't sure. Why was he teaching the class these lessons? Why teach Potter when he could easily be deflected off if he were young and naive and inexperienced? It was like, he really was Mad-Eye Moody, the paranoid Ex-Auror who knew Voldemort was coming. Not a Death Eater. Perhaps, Draco was wrong and he had been captured while in Hogwarts? But no Death Eaters could enter the grounds, Barty Crouch Jr. least of all.

Draco wished with a bite of his lip that the man would now start working Potter like a eunuch on the Curse and leave Draco alone. This time, Draco really didn't want the attention. He already had gathered more than he cared to admit. Potter could have the spotlight, Draco really couldn't care less.

He was already backing away from the two more students in front of him.

"Malfoy boy," He stopped. Wait, why was he calling Draco? Draco felt his heart accelerate as he looked up slowly to look at the disfigured Professor. "Yes, you, boy. I want to see how you are." He gestured for Draco to come upfront. The two students in front of him steadily cleared the way for him, watching as he took a cautious step toward the Professor. "Let's see how you can fill up against Potter. You seem to have been flaunting around your power against him. Let's see if you can compare to him in this."

No, this man was absolutely a Death Eater. He was hiding a smirk, but Draco knew nasty smugness when he saw one.

With a tilt of his head at the side, his hair flouncing off, he looked at Moody and then, watched Potter who stared at him with indifferent, yet curious eyes. Draco shrugged, striding towards the Professor and sneering.

"Give me your worst." He challenged, chest straight with pride.

The wizard had already drawn up his wand and was pointing it at Draco who flinched a bit before the curse rung: "_Imperio!_"

When you were against the Imperius Curse, it was like travelling a tunnel full of beauty and jewelry but not that either. It was pleasure with pain. It was pleasure but not a good pleasure. It was pain but, not a good pain. And then, there was that slimy, ordering voice echoing in his brain: "J_ump like a Frog_." Draco fought the order off with satisfaction, pushing the man out of his brain and ejecting the mental barrier quickly. There was a thunderous noise in the outside of his conscience and then, the presence was leaving his brain.

Draco opened his eyes to see Moody's disfigured scars up close and personal. He didn't back away, just kept on staring with cold eyes at the man who looked confused and was searching Draco's face for it.

"How'd you do that, boy?" asked Moody gruffly, still under Draco's personal space.

Draco shrugged, smirking. "My Father has much knowledge on the subject. Do you think he wouldn't teach me how to resist your petty little Imperius?" he was lying. His father didn't teach him squat. He had been too busy doing whatever the Dark Lord asked him. Thus, the reason Draco hated the man.

Moody grabbed his shoulder suddenly, looking at him seriously. "You're saying that Lucius taught you?"

"Well, we all have to be prepared, don't we?" Draco asked sardonically.

Moody's confusion cleared up and he stared up at Draco as if he realized something. Draco backed away from him, looking around at the class gathered- Potter was looking at him. Draco felt a pang of nerves going haywire at that.

"So, did I do better than Potter?" He asked nonchalantly.

And that was the moment when Moody looked up him and glared that Draco realized his life may be in serious danger. "Yes. Better than Potter." the words were flat and had no awe or impression in them. It was as if he suspected Draco of something. Draco wasn't sure he could figure it out for real but- well, maybe Draco could just put his plans to the can and run for Dumbledore's office now. That was a perfect plan.

He just hadn't decided how to_ not_ sound barmy in front of the old wizard for his protection. Ugh. Would he really have to tell them?

Class was dismissed when Moody started practicing on other students, specifically Potter among them and Potter kept giving him these suspicious, meaningful glances. Well, maybe some things never change. It may have happened in sixth year that he had stalked Draco and now, it was a_ bit early_ but he was again suspecting Draco.

Draco was cheery to find he was looking forward to it.

-0-

At Dinner, when Draco saw that Moody was sitting at the staff table and most of the students were there as well, he took a sneaky exit and rushed towards the Defense Against Dark Art's classroom. The hallway was dark and empty. Draco kept a watch out for anyone there but nobody was following him so, that was good. He was able to enter the classroom with a simple locking charm and then, walked towards Moody's office which was locked. Draco looked at it for a moment, sighing before bringing his wand up and hexing the lock from inside. It unlocked, and Draco with relief entered the room, steps cautious.

He looked around, eyes intent on the things standing out in the room. With a exhale, he looked at the ceiling, then at the stethoscope and other items on the table.

_Brim. Brim. Brim._

Draco's heart jumped in his chest as he looked up at the noise. There was a dark item drilling from the wall. Of course, Moody had put that in here. Draco cursed himself internally before hexing the thing off. Walking determinedly, Draco stepped to the trunk near the desk. It was just lying there, innocently. Draco had heard what was in there and with a barely held breath, he whispered a hard locking charm on the trunk. The locks on each and every part of the trunk clicked open and with that, Draco was pushing the trunk's cover off.

"What are you doing?"

Draco blanched, ready to run before he noticed that the voice wasn't of Moody. He turned to look at Potter who was studying him and the trunk behind, his Invisible Cloak bundled in his hand. Draco suppressed a sigh, and looked inside the trunk, the body in it still and unconscious.

He wondered what Crouch had done to the wizard and didn't stop to think.

"Potter," He addressed the boy, though he wished he could ignore Potter just to annoy him. "Help me with picking this up, would you?" He requested rather brusquely, as he closed the trunk back again.

"What? Why?" Potter looked dumbstruck, blinking at Draco as if he had gone barking mad. He glanced at the trunk again and asked: "What is that? I saw something in it. What are you even doing here?"

Draco huffed, mouth turned in a grimace. "Twenty questions later, would you? This isn't time for either of us to chat. We need to take this trunk out of here, be-" Draco stopped from saying: 'believe me' instead, he said: "Moody will be coming, I don't want him to kill us before we do this."

"Wha- _We_? Malfoy, I am doing no part of this." Potter backed away. "The last time I ever listened to you, you landed me in detention. Nice try, but I'm going and you can deal with this on your own."

Draco sneered, reminding himself that he could use the levitation charm instead. "Alright. Fine._ Wingardiam Leviosa_." He pointed his wand at the trunk and it floated away from the ground, balancing on thin air. "While you're leaving, at least go call Dumbledore. I need to deliver this to him." he gestured at the trunk and gave Potter a disdainful look. "Of course, you don't have to do that, but maybe, you'll be surprised to know that the thing inside this trunk is extremely important for Dumbledore to have."

Potter blinked, looking befuddled. Draco felt annoyance at the stupid expression on his face.

"Potter, I have no patience to waste on you, at the moment so just, run along." He waved Potter off with his other hand and waited as Potter finally moved away from the door. Draco pushed at his shoulder while moving away from the office and in no time, he was rushing off the classroom with the trunk in tow, Potter watching him from the sidelines with wide-eyes.

Gritting his teeth in frustration, Draco wished he had some kind of teleportation charm so he could transfer it to Dumbledore's office faster. He turned around swiftly, not looking behind him as he located the trunk in front of him and pushed forward, keeping an eye for any bystander around. Potter was following him, probably suspicious again. This suspicious curiosity could have killed him someday but the prat still lived. It was a surprise, that the more he put himself at Death's gate, it just pushed him right back. Sometimes, Draco wanted to kill him just to have something to do with his hands. And sometimes, he dreamed of kissing Potter instead. Those were the dreams that really did him in, in the end.

Not the bloody war, not his frightened parents, nor his nutter-brained Master. He had lived peacefully after the war, until the dreams started settling in, under his nerves. They hypnotized him, made him move and writh, calling silently in the night for the hard weight of a furious Potter, for Potter's embrace, for Potter's hard hands digging into Draco's shoulders and he would cry: "Potter." Not Harry, not any other name. Just Potter. Because that was what Draco always called him.

He had sent Dumbledore an anonymous, unsigned letter just after his class with Moody. Moody would be ever so alert if he realized what Draco knew about him. He wouldn't have guessed that Draco was from the future, but Draco would bet hundred galleons that he was starting to speculate. And Draco couldn't have that. He didn't wait, he ran for safety before anything else could go wrong. Gryffindors like Potter would probably wait until the last moment to fill Dumbledore in about this, but Draco wasn't like them. He took matters into his own hand. He wanted that Death Eater out, now. He had decided that resolutely and nobody could stop Draco when he was determined. Even if what he was doing sometimes, was wrong. He did it if it mattered.

And this mattered.

It was not until he was standing outside Dumbledore's office that he became aware that he did not know the password.

Draco cursed. "Now what?"

"You don't know the password?" Potter asked from behind him.

Draco turned around to ask him: "Do you?"

Potter fidgeted nervously before shaking his head. "No."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Thanks a lot, Potter." He turned back to the Gargoyle. "You're no use at all."

"Er-" Potter was making a terribly annoying habit of fidgeting on his feet. "Try naming a candy or something."

Draco looked at him from the corner of his eyes before he murmured. "Chocolate Frog." The Gargoyle didn't move. Draco frowned.

"Lemon Drops," added Potter helpfully. The Gargoyle remained on standing.

"Toffee Crunch Berry." Draco tried.

"Peanut Magnum."

"Chewy bubble choco."

They both tried respectively the names but they didn't seem to work. Draco was starting to get agitated. It was rather hilarious: he had Mad-Eye Moody's body in a trunk and was trying out names of _candies_ with Potter! Granted, it wasn't as if he _wasn't_ enjoying the time with Potter but, some priorities had to be taken care of. For both of their sakes.

"Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Potter?" Dumbledore, it seems, had just returned from Dinner. Draco turned around like Potter and looked at the old wizard.

"I need to talk to you." informed Draco. Dumbledore eyed him for a little while before he nodded.

He murmured: "Velvet choco." and Gargoyle finally opened to let them all in.

Once inside, Draco set the trunk slowly on the ground and stared at it with his muscles twitching in annoyance and trepidation.

"If I'm not mistaken, Mr. Malfoy. That is Professor Moody's trunk, isn't it?" Dumbledore asked from behind the desk.

Draco nodded and looked up, meeting Potter's gaze and then, Dumbledore's before he blurted: "This isn't a prank or anything."

Dumbledore smiled understandably. "I see. What is it, then?"

Draco breathed and eyed the trunk with distaste before letting it open again. The locks clicked and the cover flipped off, leaving the content of the trunk in bare sight. Potter gasped. Dumbledore stood up from his chair behind the desk and quickly came forward, looking down in astonishment at the body of Mad-Eye Moody.

"This is..." Dumbledore prompted Draco to explain.

"It's Mad-Eye Moody, the real one. The fake one that's been teaching your students from the beginning of term is someone else." should he tell them his identity? He looked at the two still staring at the body.

Dumbledore knelt down near the trunk and checked the body, taking out his wand and casting spells on him. Probably verifying what Draco was saying was true. When the real Moody's face didn't turn back, Dumbledore stood up and walked to the fireplace at the other end.

"You did the right thing, Mr. Malfoy." Dumbledore said after he had contacted McGonagall and Snape, respectively. His tone had a right twist, as if he didn't quite believe he would say this in any particular situation contending to Draco. And perhaps, he didn't. "May I ask why- if you don't mind me asking- did you help us?" He had turned around and was looking at Draco without any of his overzealous twinkling.

Draco shrugged. "He's going to kill me." he said bluntly. "So, before that guy comes near me with that wand, I want him out."

Potter snorted, "Figures you would do this for your own benefit, Malfoy."

Malfoy smiled tightly at Potter, glaring. "Of course, I would, Potter. If I did it for your benefit, it wouldn't be me, would it?"

Potter glared daggers back at him and they stood there, glaring at each other when the door to Dumbledore's office opened and three people came right in. One of them was Mad-Eye Moody.

"We have brought Moody with us, Headmaster. What is it that-" Snape stopped talking when he found Draco and Potter in the room and looked questioningly at Dumbledore. "What are Malfoy and Potter doing here?"

Dumbledore smiled, that twinkle in his eyes back again. "They were just leaving." he said. Potter's brow furrowed while Draco arched an eyebrow. The old wizard looked at them steadily, waiting, expectant.

Draco huffed, a bit relieved in the inside but, also exasperated. "Fine." He took the cuff of Potter's sleeve and pulled. "Come on, Potter. We're not needed here." he glanced at Moody as he said this and left while dragging Potter with him.

"M-Malfoy." when they reached outside, Potter yanked back his arm and stared hard at him. "I don't get you."

Draco's eyebrows rose, surprised. Now, that was something you don't hear everyday. "What did you say, Potter?" He asked, trying to be antagonistic but coming out just looking excited.

"Er." When Potter just looked awkwardly baffled, Draco gave up. Idiots would always remain idiots. Figures.

"Don't bother. I'm afraid if I listen to your blundering speech anymore, that fake Moody wouldn't even have to try. I'll kill myself." Draco marveled at his ability to be so cleverly unkind and honest, at the same time.

"You know, you're not that special." Potter said with a cross of his arms, frowning at him.

Draco laughed. "Coming from you, Potter, that's a bit hypocritical." When Potter just looked confused, Draco smirked. "Oh come on, Potter. You don't honestly believe that you're NOT special. I mean, what with you being the sodding Boy-Who-Lived, you're bound to think: 'Oh, everything's about me. I do this, because people expect this from me.'" Draco scoffed after doing a sweetly imitation of Potter.

Potter glared at him.

"'I don't get you.'" Draco repeated Potter's words in a mumble, shaking his head. "What don't you get, you idiotic Gryffindor?"

Potter shoved him. "Stop it." He hissed. When Draco looked at him, he was gritting his teeth in frustration. "I didn't ask for this. I didn't ask for attention or be the sodding Boy-Who-Lived. I don't know what's your problem with me, Ron, and Hermione, but stay away from us."

Draco seethed and shoved Potter back. "I won't. What'll you do about it, you stupid Gryffindor?" He sneered. "You think just because you're righteous and some Savior that, everyone's got to listen to you and your stupid threats? Well, I'm not them, Potter. I'm Draco Malfoy and we don't listen to anybody."

Harry snorted softly. "You may not listen, Malfoy but you're a coward. And you're afraid of what I'll do to you if I lose control of my magic again, don't you? You're such a baby, crying in front of the whole school just because you turned into a ferret. What a Drama Queen."

"Merlin, Potter." Draco made a shocked face mockingly. "Making fun of someone who cried after getting bullied? How could you?" He gasped before making a pained face. "Oh, help me. Potter and his stupid cronies are after me. They're rather scary, you see." He studied his nails in boredom. "Really, Potter? Honestly, one would think that as Harry Potter, the Sodding-Boy-Who-Lived you would try and keep the reputation of being nice to_ everyone_!" He snickered and watched as Potter's face turned red in anger. "Oh, I'm very afraid, Potter poo-kins. You are such a HUGE brute that I won't come near your favorite Mudblood and Weasel."

Potter stepped up suddenly, fists on Draco's collars as he pushed Draco to the wall nearest them. The blond Slytherin felt the first tingles of arousal in his body and tried not to show it as Potter leaned in and growled: "That's it, Malfoy. You have stepped on the Last line." He pushed Draco back again to the wall. "You want to know how scary I can be." He kept pulling and pushing Draco and for one moment, Draco had to surpass the urge to moan. He was such a sucker for pain the Muggle way. "I'll show you."

He pulled Draco with a jolt again but this time, threw him on the ground. Draco landed inelegantly and tried to sit up on his forearms, staring as Potter took out his wand.

"Calm down, Potter." He said with a drawl, making himself comfortable on the ground. Potter stopped whatever spell he was about to say. "First of all, look at yourself." he gestured at Potter's tense body. "You are-" Draco paused. _Beautiful. When you're blazing and shining those green eyes on me. I get lost. I'm lost in you. I love you. _"-like a deranged brute or a Hippogriff who likes to hurt others when his pride has been wounded. And surely, surely, you aren't like that at all."

_"_You don't know anything about me." Potter murmured in a strained voice. "So, shut up."

"I know you don't like me. But you won't beat me for no reason, either." Now, he was just bluffing. He didn't trust Potter wouldn't hurt him without any reason. Since some of Draco's fantasies revolved around Potter beating him and then, fucking him on the ground, on the wall, and on every other dusty place they could fine. Draco found those fantasies rather desirable and could see it happening. If only Potter wasn't so straight.

"Right." Potter said in disgust before turning away abruptly and left. Draco thought he should feel content with Potter's departure but the dull ache of disappointment was a bigger indication of what he really wanted. His body sung to him and Draco thought, perhaps he should do something about this.


	6. Part I, chapter six: Clutched and beheld

**Title**: For the First time  
**Author**: Mabu  
**Rating:** NC-17 (The ratings have gone up)  
**Genre:** Romance, Angst, Humor, Adult.  
**Warnings**: Time-Traveling fiction.  
**Disclaimer**: Property of JK Rowling. Quotes from the book may be repeated in here since time is turning.

**Author's note**: Now, I think this is starting to become interesting and slashy. Heh.

* * *

**Chapter six: Clutched and beheld**

"Scars will heal soon,  
you shrug it off,  
except that you don't.

Better, it surely  
it don't fall out,  
said,  
i live low,  
i lisp, i die."

**Practice Alice, **by Crystal Castles

* * *

Draco looked at himself critically in the full-length mirror, eying the flaccid cock between his thigh before watching the curve and dip of his hipbones, leveling his eyes up toward the flat plane of his stomach and then, his chest. His body was still at the verge of puberty, growing and filling nicely the places that had not been there before. Nothing really was that out of the ordinary; just a pure, unadulterated, and untouched body that might as well have been someone else's.

There were no scar lines across his chest, none on his neck either from any of his night adventures. Everything was flawlessly white and pale. Not an inch of skin marred by pink or black or unnaturally grotesque colors. He was in a child's body and he was unmarred.

He didn't quite know how to feel about that. He did feel justifiably relieved for he didn't possess the Dark Mark anymore; a permanent mark that he took upon his skin with much pride in younger years and then, regretted it just months later. But strangely enough, he felt empty without having the weight of his mistake still printed across his inner wrist. He supposed after years of accepting the scar as his own, it had become a part of him. A dirty part of him, but a part nonetheless.

The Slytherin had hated his war wounds, because they reminded him of a time where he had a choice and he didn't even know he had one because all he'd ever been prepared for was one path- one choice. That always irked him. But today, as he stood in front of the mirror, without the scars covering his skin, he felt strange, odd and out of his skin. This was a new start, he realized, tracing a line up his stomach and to his chest with a finger-tip. This was a new body. As if the god up there had granted him a chance; not Alice. He was fresh out of his mother's womb, still very much a virgin in body.

He smiled slyly.

Eyes passing lightly over his face, he took note of his lips and licked them slowly, focusing on the movement. He frowned at the mirror, his lips were pale and dry. He should wet them, he decided as he went over to the sink and sipped some water before spitting it back. Rubbing his wet lips, he stared at them in the reflection, pressing them tightly before letting them go and studying them as the red bloomed on his lips. He smiled, satisfied.

Then, he smirked.

And then, he pressed the tip of his teeth on the bottom lip, dragging the flesh out before letting go and watched as they turned white, pink and red, respectively. He surprised himself by the completely mind-blowing, sexy expression on his whole face and smiled cheekily at the mirror.

"I'm hot." He murmured in the empty bathroom. Thank Merlin the mirrors weren't charmed to talk back at you on your appearance. It would probably say something cheesy and Draco didn't need assurance from a reflection. It was the middle of the night and Draco had sneaked to the bathroom to take a bath by himself. After washing himself though, he got into watching himself in the mirror. The passing thought was about what Potter would prefer as a straight bloke. Because even straight could bend if the seduction was well-placed.

He grinned mercilessly at his reflection and walked back over to the full-length mirror. This time, he noted his hair and frowned. The hairs were grown out a bit at the side but, completely out of of style in the year he used to live in. He needed a hair-cut, he decided as he fingered the strands of pale blond hair, flopping them carefully to one side and then, to the other side. The sight wasn't pleasing and with a sigh, he rubbed his hair and messed them up as they came up front, covering his forehead. With a huff, he glared at the mirror. The look may be better, but it was boyish, not pretty. He needed to grow out his hair. He needed to be pretty and feminine in a queer way if he wanted to seduce a dumb and oblivious Gryffindor like Potter.

Indifferent, broody as Harry Potter was; he was not blind (thank merlin for that) and Draco could use that bit as an advantage. Though, the only things he probably noticed were obvious and right up in the face. Potter had no clue about the fascination of subtleness: if he wanted answers, he would demand them more than a little aggressively and if he didn't get answers, he would chase for his own. He didn't sit still, _for anyone_. That was Potter's nature. Draco didn't know about Potter's sexual nature but he would guess from what he had seen so far of the Boy-Who-Lived that he was extremely barbaric in bed. Of course, nobody really did know much about his bedroom manners since the only sexual partner Potter probably had was that Weasley girl. Draco had to watch out for her too. She wasn't pretty but apparently, Potter had liked her enough to marry her for life. Or maybe, it was just his need to legally become family with the Weasleys.

Whatever it was about, Potter was extremely awkward and would probably know nothing about his preference. And if he did, he just repressed them.

The situation was hopeless, Draco thought as he eyed the reflection staring back at him. He wasn't a sex-god, wasn't good-looking enough. The only thing he could do was just hope and try his best to look good every time Potter was around. He could guess it would take a long time from the looks of it. But it would be worth it, he grimly recognized as he bit the inside of his cheek. It would be worth every galleon he could spend on making himself attractive.

Also, if worst came to worse and Potter went back to Weaslette, then Draco would be a hot, desirable, and available bloke. That could amount to a lot of shagging. It was a bit sad, though, because that was exactly what his future entailed. If you cannot get your crush's attention, you went for a shag and then, more shag until there was nothing but shagging, clubbing, and drinking.

And a big hole that couldn't be filled.

-0-

When Draco went for breakfast, the Great Hall was unusually chatty, he could see everywhere in the Four tables that all Houses were formed in cliques, gathered around one seat and murmuring to each other while reading the Daily Prophet. Draco went to his seat and was handed the Daily Prophet by Zabini who was giving him a significant look. Draco glanced at the headlines and sighed internally in relief.

**DEATH EATER INFILTRATING AS A TEACHER AT HOGWARTS**

Rita Skeeter, a friend of Draco's and the newspaper journalist was speculating on Hogwart's safety again and from what he could see, the Ministry would probably try to relinquish Dumbledore's barrier and send some half-baked Auror or Ministry Official in to check the security details. In the middle, there was a picture of Barty Crouch Jr. being taken away by Aurors and some comments about his father who worked for the Ministry at the moment. There was some small mentions of Dumbledore and his comments on the matter. There was no mention of Draco's name and he was thankful for that. He had specifically told the old wizard in the letter that he didn't want much audience knowing of his identity and Dumbledore had understood and complied.

Draco put the paper away after some skimming and looked across at Zabini who was smirking at him. "What do you know? The Professor you disliked was a friend of your father's."

"He was dead." Draco muttered, taking out an apple from the fruit tray. "How would I know anything about the Death Eater?"

"Just saying." Zabini said with a shrug but the look he gave Draco was anything, but uncaring.

"Hey, guys." Pansy said as she sat next to Draco. Draco bit on his apple, enjoying the ripe as he licked down at his lip. "So, what's this racket about?"

Zabini told her, "Moody has been fired. More than just fired, really."

"What?" Pansy was stunned and then, gave Draco an impressed once-over. "Good job, Draco. I didn't know you could do it."

"I didn't do anything." He hissed to Pansy and Zabini who didn't seem too convinced.

And then, Pansy was glancing at the Headlines and reading through the paper. "Huh."

"Right?"

"And he was what? Pretending to be Potter's friend or something because, you would think, he'd stick close to Slytherins." Pansy threw the newspaper face-down on the table. "So, what do you think is going to happen to us if they find out we tried to form a conspiracy plan to get him out of the school. He seemed to genuinely dislike us, if I recall."

"Or, maybe he was just a very good actor." Zabini said in an awed tone.

"Eh," Pansy disagreed.

While they talked amongst each other of their parent's reaction and other meaningless venues, Draco put away his half-eaten apple and turned around so he was facing the other Houses table. With that position, he looked behind at the Slytherin table first, catching some unblemished, might-be-good-looking blokes and then unwittingly, he caught Marcus Flint's eyes. Marcus, who had been watching him quite intently. Draco eyed him blankly, wondering if he was going to use this guy. Well, he was open and available and he was just asking for Draco to use and discard him. Draco put that in mind and moved on to the Ravenclaw table: some blonds, some red-haired and black-haired ones. He noticed Roger Davies, the Ravenclaw captain from the side-lines and thought about it. Fleur Delacor, the part-Veela had chosen the guy to be his servant-plus-date-for-Yule-Ball so he might be on the top hit-list. And anyway, Draco didn't particularly like the guy anyway.

He grinned, standing up.

"Leaving already?" Pansy asked, noticing him. He shook his head slowly, watching Davies with a predatory look. She looked at Davies' direction too and frowned. "What-"

"Later." Draco said with a wave, walking over to the Ravenclaw table and sittintg on the bench, next to Davies who was giving him a weird look while his friends looked up with interest.

"What are you doing here?" Davies asked rudely. Draco gave a smouldering look at him, smile still on his lips as he moved and sat on Davies' lap. The Ravenclaw, dumbfounded, allowed the movement in his shock and then, snapped back into reality. "Wha-"

Draco interjected the words with his tongue and sucked; licking the inside cavern of Davies like a hungry dragon. There were Davies' hands on his side, intending to push away, but at Draco's daring action remained still and tense as their tongues met, greeted and pulled away before meeting again. Moments later, he was gasping under Draco, making noises of denial, but Draco could see that there was lingering desire in his touch and in the noises he was making at the back of his throat. For the whole world to see, Draco gave the best show of his tongue coming out to exquisitely play with the other boy. He let Davies bite them as he closed his eyes in a pretend gesture of pleasure and moaned softly.

After a while of snogging the daylights out of Davies', Draco pulled away and got out of Davies' lap. Davies, much like Flint had, was looking at Draco as if he were looking at god. Draco ignored him, looking around curiously and was barely able to keep from smirking. The whole Great Hall was looking dead center at him, every stare astonished and filled with an exceptional awe at what had transpired before them. Draco could guess that never before in the history of Hogwarts did a student do a random snog on random strangers. Draco decided that this was history's most stunning moment. The moment with Flint was just nerves and surprise, but nothing as shocked as the audience was today.

Acting disinterested, Draco walked over to the Slytherin table and sat down beside Pansy who was staring agape at him.

"What did you do that for?" Zabini questioned. Pansy was quick to follow:

"You did that on purpose!" she shouted, looking outraged.

Draco raised an eyebrow at her, as if to say: "_Of course, I did._"

"I can't believe it. You did it again." Zabini was shaking his head in dismay and disbelief. "What in the Merlin's beard are you planning?"

"Why are you doing this?" Pansy asked.

Queenie whistled. "Nice shot, Draco. That was the hottest kiss I've ever seen in Hogwarts and believe me, I get to watch a lot of kisses out there but that was definitely...hot."

"You're into voyeurism?" Draco asked tactlessly.

She raised an eyebrow before giggling. "Oh, maybe."

Nott punched Draco in shoulder playfully. "You're really getting on your high-horse, Malfoy. I repeat what Zabini was saying, what in the bloody hell are you planning?"

Draco shrugged and lied: "Nothing."

None of them believed him but then again, Draco didn't exactly want them to not believe or anything. More attention for him.

"So, anyway-" Draco started, they looked at him expectantly. "Tell me everyone's expression right now." The chatter among the Houses was continuing but this time, he could feel them all watching him. Just that moment, he felt special.

"Oh, Granger looks like McGonagall did the first time you did it. Speaking of that, where is that wench?" Just as Queenie had said, McGonagall wasn't around. Neither was Snape, for that matter. The Hall was shaky with brimming energy since a lot of the Professors had disappeared. Probably to discuss the whole Moody was an imposter and a Death Eater and how to protect Hogwarts better against Dark forces like that. Draco couldn't have picked a better time for this.

Zabini continued the commentary: "The Hufflepuffs seem extra excited. Well, the girls do. They're giggling a lot, I think they don't know what to do with what they saw and I don't blame them, I'm rather stunned too."

Draco allowed himself to look around then. More slowly this time. His eyes immediately fell on the Gryffindor hero and his friends. Potter was looking down at the table while his friends talked to each other while giving Draco dirty looks along the way. Well, Weasley, to be specific. The Weasley Twins were, however surprisingly, watching Draco with a new-held respect or something; they were smiling (whatever that meant in Weasley Twin gesture).

Pansy snorted. "So, are you satisfied? You've got everyone's attention." Draco glanced at her. "This is going to become a big scope. You know that?"

He was saved from replying as small, little Creevey Colin came up to Draco with an excited look on his face. Draco withheld his practiced sneer as he noticed the muggle camera hanging off the cameraman's neck.

"Hi, Malfoy." he greeted abruptly. "I apologize for taking it without your permission-"

"I don't mind." Draco said rather cleanly. Creevey looked surprised before opening his mouth and closing it like a fish.

"Er." He said awkwardly, backing away. "Right."

"Wait." Draco stood up. Creevey gave him a speculative look, he smiled politely. "I have a condition."

"What?"

Draco glanced at his Slytherin friends who were watching with interest. "Nothing appalling. Just, I'm sure you're not the type of cameraman who takes pictures just for himself-"

"But I do-" Creevey protested feebly.

Draco held up a hand politely. "And you don't ever distribute them?" when Creevey looked like he was finally understanding what Draco was saying, Draco nodded. "I want you to distribute these photos but, at a price." Creevey's eyes widened, mouth opening in protest, Draco guessed. "If it's a newspaper asking for the photo, you ask me what price they pay. Either way, you take this photo and make lots of copies. Trust me, everyone will want one. Also, half of what you will earn will be mine."

Creevey looked like he was still trying to come to terms with such a thing but then, he nodded silently. He looked up at Draco with a new look of recognition. "What price should I ask for?"

Draco smirked slowly.

-0-

After supper, Dumbledore summoned Draco to his office. McGonagall had given him the message while passing his seat. None of his Slytherin friends were aware that he was meeting the Headmaster and Draco preferred to keep it that way. He walked out of the Great Hall and was unexpectedly, pushed aside to a wall, a warm, hard body attaching to his as he looked on into the eyes of Roger Davies. He reeked of bitter anger and Draco sneered fully up at him. The grip on his waist tightened at his expression.

"What_ was that_?" Davies asked, leaning so his face was up close and personal to Draco's who was trying to keep a distance between them. Noting his discomfort, Davies backed a little. "Why did you kiss me?"

Draco shrugged, innocently questioning: "What does it matter? Do you have a girlfriend? because I swear, I'll pend your innocence to her if you do." he promised emptily. Davies narrowed his eyes and then, out of nowhere, he thrust his hip forward to Draco's, pushing Draco to the wall behind him and coming much closer to his body.

"What are you doing?" Draco demanded, angry. There were footsteps near them and noticing the noise, they both looked up to see the Golden Trio showing up and watching them, rather startled.

Granger turned pink at noticing the position they were in, Weasley had his jaw dropped open in shock, and Potter-

Draco pushed Davies away in annoyance and disgust. "Listen, it was a prank." He told Davies, but his eyes and mind was on the Boy-Who-Lived who was watching Draco. Draco, who would do anything in front of those green, green eyes just to have them on him for eternity. "You're supposed to laugh at it, not take it seriously."

Davies, turning red in outrage, pushed at Draco's torso and Draco staggered back, staring down at him.

"What's wrong with you?" Draco asked none-too-kindly. Davies growled, stepping toward Draco, who pushed at his chest, but was stopped as fingers tightened around his wrist. Davies twisted his wrist around and he tried to hold in the noise of pain at the back of his throat. "A-ah."

"Stop that!" Granger ordered, coming up to them and pushing Davies away from Draco. She looked between them before determinedly turning to Davies. "I know Malfoy's an insufferable git but, if you do that, you'll get detention and points off. And violence isn't good." she gave a glance at Draco who ignored her, watching as Weasley came to stand protectively behind her and Potter was the last to step in the scene, his eyes meeting Draco's slowly. They stared at each other, Potter's green eyes stony in silent indifference and a small spark of curiosity.

_I love you._

Draco stopped from saying the words echoing inside his head. Abruptly, coming to some instinctive decision, he turned his face to Davies' and while keeping his eyes on Potter sideways, he took Davies' face in one of his hands and planted an open-mouthed kiss on the lips opening against his in surprise. He didn't know what Davies thought of this, Draco's focus was only Potter's indifference turning to wide-eyed, innocent shock. He lapped at the tongue that came up to meet his own, he accepted the hungriness that was emanating from the other boy, he let the Ravenclaw hold his waist like he was a girl and pull him in, their hips meeting against fabric, rutting mindlessly. And all that time, his eyes were hot and on Potter's.

Finally, closing his eyes, shallow breaths exhaling on his lips, he pulled away from the arms around him and finally turned to face Davies. His eyes imminently turned cold. He looked down at the bulge on the other boy's pants and he smirked smugly. "So," he looked up, meeting the boy's now startled eyes. "Was this what you wanted?"

Davies looked shocked and humiliated as he glanced around at the new students coming to watch the scene. And then, he gave Draco a strangely betrayed glare before walking away.

"That wasn't very nice." Granger muttered as she watched the Ravenclaw flee. Draco smiled a little sadly, not seeing her at all.

Sex was just an itch- a physical, hot itch that probably any bloke could scratch for him. Roger could be aggressive, he could be physically pleasing to see but he was- would never be able to fill the void. Draco was sure he could get rid of the itch that was pouring and calling out to his body but the hole, the companionship that he craved could only come from the one he had chosen from the deepest pits of his heart. And Draco had undeniably chosen the Boy-Who-Lived to fall in love with. Just like Cho Chang had chosen Cedric Diggory to fall in love with, even though the Chosen One, the famous Boy-Who-Lived was right in front of her. Just like Potter had chosen Cho Chang and then, Ginny Weasley to fall in love with. Sometimes, a person couldn't tell the difference between the heart's desire and the head's desire. The head's desire was infatuation, puppy love, childish obsession and everything in between. Heart's desire burned brighter though; it was all up in one's body. Draco had tried to deny that he was in love with the Sodding-Boy-Who-Lived for a long time. Very long, actually. And it would be easy to deny once Potter was not there. When he was out of sight, he was easily out of Draco's mind.

But Draco's heart remembered Potter. It remembered. And whenever Potter was near him, glaring at him, looking at him, beating him... Draco felt the nervous jitters in his veins. He would feel his heart clenching for whatever reason and his gut would feel like it was sucking him in. He would feel off his balance. He could laugh, cry and do anything but the emotion was empty, vain. It was all for nothing if it wasn't for Potter.

"Come on, Hermione." Weasley pulled Granger's arm, eying Draco distrustfully. Granger took one long look at Draco who was looking at the ground at the moment, but could feel her eyes on him and then, she nodded at Weasley before following him off to who-knows-where. Draco finally lifted his head to see Potter still standing there, staring at him intently. Draco let all his emotions, all his love show on his face before Potter was pulled out of his reverie and walking away like everyone else walked out in Draco's life.

Draco couldn't trust Pansy anymore. Neither could he ever talk himself into referring to Crabbe and Goyle as his friends. Zabini could go fuck himself and Nott... Draco didn't know much about Nott except that he was as nasty as the other Slytherins. Draco had no idea where he was going with all this. What plan? Draco knew he had to wait, to tactfully prepare Potter for an assault but here he was, stripping all of him just for Potter to see, just asking Potter to rip him apart because as prideful as Draco was, as distrustful and mean- Draco would only strip himself in front of Potter. He would only show his vulnerability to Potter.

"Draco?" Draco gritted his teeth, turning around to look at another Slytherin crony. He glared at the bloke who was staring at him with frightened eyes and then, slapped himself internally for forgetting about Dumbledore during all this mess.

Without another look back, he took to Dumbledore's office and this time, no-one interrupted his determined steps.

-0-

"Come in." Dumbledore permitted. Draco entered his office purposefully, sitting in front of the desk. Dumbledore watched him with that twinkle in his eye.

He cleared his throat, cautious. "I trust you didn't tell my father or anyone who would tell my father of this?"

Dumbledore nodded, sobering up. "That was a remarkable thing you did, Mr. Malfoy and I commend you on a job well-done."

"Right." Draco said with a sigh, slumping back in the chair as he sulked. Dumbledore eyed him warily before raising the query:

"May I ask," Draco glanced at him. "What is it that's bothering you?" Draco scrutinized him, wondering if the old coot had heard of Draco's other escapades.

He straightened up. "You were gay, right, sir?" He asked as respectfully as he could.

Dumbledore's twinkling returned with a new force. "Am." he added.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Okay. You are gay." He sighed again, rubbing his forehead. "Have you-" he paused, weighing his options. He shouldn't discuss this. It wasn't any of Dumbledore's business and Draco really didn't want to discuss it anyway.

"Yes?" Dumbledore prompted patiently. Draco turned to look at him and saw a soft-hearted, trustworthy, and easygoing heart looking back at him and he knew that whatever he would say, they would never become tainted by dark, greedy hands.

He fiddled with his fingers before he asked: "What else was it that you wanted from me?"

Dumbledore tilted his head, smiling. "Nothing much. Did you have something else to tell me, Mr. Malfoy?"

Draco thought about it. "My father." Dumbledore nodded. "I know you won't tell him but, I can't help but worry. You see if he finds out, he will kill me."

"Would you want me to swear on my words?" Dumbledore inquired.

Draco rubbed at his forehead with his thumb, before shaking his head. "No. No. I trust you." and that was the word, wasn't it? He trusted this old wizard because even right at the verge of his death, he had not forgotten his moralities. He had not begged for his life. He had not bribed. He had just trustingly tried to approach Draco at his most vulnerable time. He had tried, while others had not understood.

"I am glad you do." the white-haired wizard said with a warm smile. He straightened up then. "Now, while I won't tell him anything and I give my word that neither will Mr. Potter, McGonagall or Snape, there are some things I would like to point at." Draco was startled into looking up. "Your behavior during these days is highly suspicious, don't you think?"

Draco lowered his eyes, glowering at the table. "I have my freedom, don't I?" he demanded, knowing what the wizard was referring to.

"Of course, you have your freedom, Mr. Malfoy. You know that but, your father will be less inclined to accept it, don't you think?" Dumbledore asked softly.

Draco closed his eyes and wanted to cry. "I know." he murmured in a low voice. He opened his eyes. "I mean, yes. Yes, I think father won't accept it. He'd rather have a son who can give him an heir than, a son who couldn't."

Dumbledore expression was sad. "I'm sorry to hear that, Draco."

Draco nodded, eyes downcast._ Me too_. "May I leave?" he asked. He felt like he was in sixth-year all over again. All around him was controversy and among that controversy, Draco was suffocating and he wanted to cry- cry again. And maybe, he would go down to the girls' bathroom at the second floor again. Maybe, he would cry there, looking at his reflection again. And maybe, Potter would come chasing after him and hex him into bloody pieces. Maybe.

"Yes, you may leave, Mr. Malfoy." Draco stood up quickly and left without a pause or goodbye. He went down the marble staircase, listening to his footsteps _tap_-tap-_tap_ on the steps, and made a run for it, desperately rushing towards the girls' bathroom. Before he knew, he was there, standing outside the door, already hearing Myrtle's moaning and whining, and opened it with a slam.

"Who's there?" Myrtle asked, looking startled and confused as she came out of one of the toilets. Draco looked at her surprised expression and felt more miserable. Because she didn't recognize him. She didn't know him. She never met him.

Draco, not feeling like meeting another stranger to his life again, turned and ran out the door, his vision a blur. Suddenly, he realized tears were pouring down his cheeks and he wiped them viciously.

"Merlin." He gasped, looking around the empty hallway before turning to his right, and walking to the Dungeons.

There was a shortcut there, leading right into Hogsmeade and that's exactly what he needed. He needed to get away from these suffocating walls trying to reign him in. He walked blindly down the staircases and taking cuts here and there, bumping amongst people and rushing off without looking at their faces or letting them see his tear-streaked face. He walked away, feeling the pull of the outside clutching at him, luring him in its trap. Draco wasn't much of a rule-breaking prat. Some would even call him a good student and a good role-model. The only reason he got into trouble sometimes was because of Potter and his obnoxious playmates. Draco became a Prefect because of that. Not because he was a prat, or that he wanted to make Potter's life miserable- he just was that good and the school- no matter how evil of a git he was- knew that well. Aside from that though, sneaking and causing mayhem among the Gryffindor's made Draco chase and follow them. He found hidden tunnels he had never seen and openings behind armors that surely weren't worthy of an exploration.

Draco knew these openings well and without hesitating, he entered and escaped the gripping hold of the Hogwarts castle.


	7. Part I, chapter seven: Demons inside

**Title**: For the First time

**Author**: Mabu  
**Rating:** NC-17  
**Genre:** Romance, Angst, Humor, Adult.  
**Warnings**: Time-Traveling fiction.  
**Disclaimer**: Property of JK Rowling. Quotes from the book may be repeated in here since time is turning.

**Author's note**: Okay, to answer a reviewer's questions: the ratings have not technically gone up but, they are leading to that moment. And thank you for reminding me, I will be changing the rating to M.

* * *

**Chapter seven: Demons inside**

"Here by my side, you are destruction  
Here by my side,  
a new colour to paint the world  
Never turn your back on it  
Never turn your back on it, again  
Here by my side, it's Heaven."

**Weapon,** by Mathew Good.

* * *

Draco used to have more than just the Dark Mark and war wounds on his skin: a wizard tattoo, in reminder of his Quidditch days. It was a snitch- marked by black ink- that floated up and down his back. It didn't go all the way back to his arse because, at that time, Draco wasn't concerned about being appealing and Father would definitely disapprove of a tattoo that went to inappropriate places. And piercings on the cartilage of his upper ears.

At first, just being outside, breathing the fresh autumn air was better than nothing for Draco when he reached the outside caverns of Hogwarts but then, he went to The Three Broomstick. Madam Rosmerta noticed that he was a student and gave him a disapproving glance, but looked away soon after. At that moment, Draco turned back around and walked out of the club, feeling sick because he was glad she didn't remember him. That all of his crimes had vanquished. She wasn't the Madam Rosmerta that Draco used in the most unforgivable way, she was a stranger who couldn't have known anything about Draco's position as a Death Eater and still, Draco wanted to beg for forgiveness at her footsteps.

Later, he went to the Dervus', it was here that he got his first tattoo and he knew that the guy who marked him before would be present. Somehow, Draco had been messing with his timeline as if it weren't important enough to give caution to but now, he just wanted everything to be a little familiar. He wanted memories that were real in this world and having the fourteen years of memories here wasn't enough. _It would never be enoug_h, Draco contemplated as he entered the shop and the man, Gus met him with a welcoming smile. Draco truly felt a bit at home, then.

He went and sat down and gave instructions to the man; he wanted the snitch tattoo again, with golden shades and colors filled in this time and he wanted the wizard tattoo to reach all the way down his legs and from his shoulders. The shop owner nodded and went to work quickly and efficiently as Draco derobed and stripped off his shirt. Gus did the tattoo fast, Draco had told him not to take his pain into consideration and just get it over with. The man did so and since this wasn't the muggle way, it didn't hurt much or take time. Then, Draco asked about a salon in Hogsmeade that would cut his hair properly and Gus furrowed his brows in thought before telling him of a place not so far from Honeyduke.

Draco thanked him and left for the salon. The woman there was more than pleased to serve him since she knew he was Narcissa Malfoy's son or maybe, it was the pack of galleons he was carrying with his person. The woman, salon owner, did his haircut for him, chatting about Narcissa Malfoy and how "great" she was. Draco tuned her out, smiling when she would look for acknowledgement but not giving her anything to talk about. After the haircut was done, which was aesthetically fitting for Draco's long face and pointed features, Draco paid her and left without looking back.

He took some chocolates and candies on the way from Honeydukes and traveled back to Hogwarts in time for curfew.

"Where were you?" Zabini asked when Draco entered the common room. Draco shrugged, tilting his chin in the way that Zabini saw the glittering gold piercing on his upper ears. He had gotten four piercings on his ear, each two a pair on both ear in Dervus before leaving. Zabini noticed them and then, his eyes traveled over Draco's hair.

"Wow." He said in awe before raising his eyebrows in an impressed manner. "You went out of Hogwarts?"

Draco took a seat at the sofa beside Zabini, casually rolling his shoulder. "Couldn't wait for the Hogsmeade trip."

"Interesting." Zabini said thoughtfully.

Draco just arched his brow in question and condescension both.

"Alright." Zabini said finally, coming out of whatever thought he was badgering on. "Whose the ga- person you're trying to seduce?" when Draco was about to answer, Zabini interrupted: "No, wait. It's a guy, isn't it? You're trying to seduce a guy, aren't you? That's why you're looking like the person who wants to be shagged in the arse and not the other way around."

Draco looked at Zabini as if looking at him for the first time. "Are you gay?" he asked bluntly.

Zabini shook his head. "No. No, I'm not." though, there was this bit of gap in his pause that left for doubt. "It's just...obvious, isn't it?" he gestured at Draco's profile overall and exhaled through his nose sharply.

Draco frowned, trying for an alluring pout and not knowing if it was working or not. His focus entirely was of the marble ground, making his eyes possibly low-hooded. "You're right." he finally answered. "I am seducing someone- well, trying, anyway." he tried to smile but it fell short on his lips and he felt the wave of sadness overcome him again. "Doesn't mean it'll go right or anything. Just wanted a change of identity, I guess."

Zabini looked confused. "Change of identity? What's wrong with the Draco we know? You were fine just as you were."

Draco laughed softly. "But _he_ won't like it." he admitted. Somehow, it felt right to confess this. It might get him good points with Zabini who may not be the sympathetic type, but he was the soft-hearted type for his friends. And in fourth year, his heart had not gone cold yet. Also, he wasn't from a family that was as loyal to Voldemort as Draco's or even, Pansy's family were- are.

Zabini's eyes bulged out suddenly. "Oh merlin," Draco looked at him questioningly. "You really are in love, aren't you?" when all Draco did was stare at him in reply, he questioned rather loudly: "It's not a Hufflepuff, is it?" when Draco scrunched his nose automatically, Zabini looked relieved and narrowed his eyes in concentration. "Ravenclaw, then?" when Draco didn't answer or gesture with his face of negative, Zabini nodded understandably.

Just when Draco thought the conversation would be dropped, Zabini started suddenly: "It's not a Gryff-" thank the Merlin that Professor Snape came out just at that moment.

"Mr. Zabini, Mr. Malfoy, it is close to curfew, what are you doing outside?" voice silky and soft yet, dangerous all the same. Snape was such an amazing influence in Draco's life that seeing his face sometimes made Draco's heart tighten, knowing that he was the one who had caused_ one_ of the many wounds in Snape's painfully lonely life. He felt responsibility for that because even being a Slytherin; being respected and mentored so carefully by the man, he had ashamed Snape in the most incomprehensible ways.

"Mr. Malfoy, we need to talk." Snape said when both Draco and Zabini were getting up and heading for the dorms. Draco turned, seeing the look in Snape's eyes and nodded silently.

"Yes, sir." he answered, following Snape to his office after Snape was done checking the common room for other students out late. Once they were in the office, Snape spoke:

"It has come to my attention that you are behaving in a highly unbecoming manner."

"Do you disapprove?" Draco asked, raising his eyes to meet Snape's steely ones.

Snape stared back for a moment before his muscles twitched in annoyance. "Yes, Mr. Malfoy. If I can help it, I would like to keep you alive and your Father-"

"My Father's opinion doesn't matter." Draco snapped sharply, glaring at the floor. He could tell Snape was surprised by his reaction but didn't care. "I trust you won't tell him. Dumbledore told me you wouldn't." he added. "You're loyal to him."

Snape looked on the verge of saying something before his eyes changed and he said: "I believe you should keep your presumptions to yourself, Mr. Malfoy. While I shall not dispute the fact that I listen to the Headmaster's every order. It is not entirely the matter of loyalty."

Draco shook his head. "I don't care what you say."_ I know what I've seen. _

The next question out of Snape's mouth shocked him: "Are you a Seer, Mr. Malfoy?"

"What?" He jerked his head around and stared at Snape in disbelief. "No, I'm not a Seer!"

Snape looked unconvinced and Draco wondered what it was about him that seemed to indicate such a thing. Yes, he knew the future but-

"Don't think too much about it, it was just a small guess pertaining to why you seemed to act as if you know things other people wouldn't have."

"I don't act-" _as if I know. _Snape didn't let him finish.

"-Mr. Malfoy, while the Headmaster may not feel the need to question, I do. How did you know where Alastor Moody's real body was?"

Draco's jaw tightened. "I'm sure the Headmaster told you not to ask me about it."

An almost upward curve happened across Snape's lips at that. "No, he didn't do any such thing."

Draco glared at the smugness of his Potions Professor and refused to say anything.

"I should inform you, Malfoy, that your mother letters me frequently on how your health is. All this time, I have been quite charitable at your disposal since, you are one of my very best students but, you lack the strength to lie." Snape warned, matter-of-fact. "And also, you lack the cleverness it takes to hide secrets. You would never be a spy if you keep this up." Draco felt his ears burn hot at the rather insulting words out of his mentor's mouth. "And you need me to teach you the art to spying and also, help you with your parent's suspicion."

Draco was so obviously startled and touched by Snape's last words that he felt like crying. He remained silent though, every fiber of his body was asking him to let up and tell the man all his secrets. But then, he'd be proving Snape right. He should be able to do this on his own. Spies didn't need allies, they did it all alone-

But, Draco wasn't the type to do it alone. He wasn't hardcore like Snape was. He was just a child, stuck in a child's body. Again, repeating mistakes and being stupid and reckless.

"I bumped into Professor Trelawny on the way." Snape continued on speaking, and Draco's whole body tensed. "She seemed to mumble about bad things happening "with that boy around" When I questioned her what she was talking about, she told me it was you, in her nonsensical riddles, of course." Draco was now curious to hear more. "She said you were here to bring about good outcomes, only you will make it worse."

"How?" Draco was baffled. "How can I make it worse? I made that imposter go away, didn't I? Didn't I?" He asked Snape desperately.

Snape was silent as Draco searched for answers in his steely disposition. "It is not the matter of intentions, Mr. Malfoy. Perhaps, the imposter's methods would be mild compared to what-"

"Voldemort's coming back." Draco blurted out, wishing he could stop, wishing his tongue would stop working. Snape looked only mildly surprised but more than that, he looked irritated. "He's not powerful enough maybe, but he is..." he trailed off. He didn't know much information of how the set of events took place. Just that his father had been extremely happy and proud that Diggory had died and that "Potter boy" had been sacrificed just as the plan had went.

"I know." Snape murmured in a superior tone.

Draco frowned. "How do you-"

"Have you ever learned Occulmency, Malfoy?" Draco's eyes widened at that._ Oh shit, Legemency. _"By your expression, at least you know about it." Snape decided to assume, he then leaned closer to Draco, looking him dead in the eye. "Malfoy, you have extremely important information down there-" he gestured to Draco's forehead with his finger "-and god forbid, anybody try to seep into your brain, they will find what they're looking for. You have left your mind open to every probe and that is reckless with the material that's embeded in your memory."

"Do you think you could Obliviate me?" Draco asked before he could stop the question. He could tell why Snape was angry now. Draco really had left all the mental barriers open. He had now closed them tightly, noticing the slight probe that his mentor did on his mind and vowed to never forget his Occulmency lessons again.

"No." said Snape tightly. "At least, not now. Since you have become rather a perspective person and I need one of those around here, if I can help it, I will not let you go." he moved to his table, touching a small jar there with concentrated eyes trained on it. "Also, the ridiculous notion that you're in love with Potter will also vanish."

Draco glared at his back. "How much did you see in my mind?"

Snape glanced at him, uncaring. "Rest assured, Malfoy, I did not need to dig in your brain to get that information. It's quite obvious with all the heated looks you keep sending his way."

Draco breathed a deep sigh, exhaling and then, shaking his head. "Does Dumbledore know all this?"

"I do inform him of everything that's worth mentioning." Snape said in his helpful way. "Your personal life is none of our business to discuss."

Draco smiled humorlessly. "Right." he eyed Snape for a bit before shaking his head again. "I don't really care. Just- I realize I can't do this alone and that, I need some help but, it all gets so complicated. And what you said about me being worse in a way. I don't know how it could be worse. Does Voldemort come back earlier and terrorize the children at Hogwarts? Because I refuse to believe such a bad outcome can come out of this."

"Visions and prophecies are always ambiguous in a way." Snape told him. "And that Professor is a bit on the mad side. However, true her prophecies have been." Snape assured in his most humorously assuring manner and Draco felt relieved because Snape did not believe Draco was any danger to the future of this time. He trusted Draco. Draco felt proud and relished in the satisfaction before smiling widely.

"Then, I'll prove her wrong." He said in the most confident tone he had possessed.

Snape just gave him a look that said it all and before Draco knew it, he was being kicked out of the office and heading for the common room. Draco felt a little light-hearted, knowing that Snape and Dumbledore, two people he trusted in the most secure way in this time, knew about him and cared in a way about the circumstances.

Draco lay in his bed that night, closing his eyes and he couldn't help but think about what Snape had told him. From what Draco remembered Sybil Trelawny may be a barmy witch but, she had irrevocably given the biggest prophecies of Draco's time.

Draco didn't want to think about it so he shut his eyes tight and urged himself to go to sleep quickly.

-0-

After the discussion with Snape, Draco felt restless and on the defensive. He knew then and there that he couldn't face the students of the Great Hall in the condition that he was in. If there was one thing that his father had taught him right was that you did not go in front of a mass on a bad day, especially after a scandolous one. His father always called in sick if he was distressed, though he hardly ever did and although, Draco didn't exactly understand the reason, he obeyed and even now, he continued to do so.

He supposed it was the negative thoughts that finally made him avoid the eyes of anyone who could watch so when there was breakfast, supper or dinner, he spent his time in the library. And then, some. For all he knew, for the past week, people could assure he had been vanquished from the face of Hogwarts. But he still made appearances in classes, and kept a distance with fellow partners. It wasn't as if he was running away, per se. He was not.

Somehow, Snape's news to him had left him feeling vulnerable again. At first, he thought he was safe as long as he knew the future but now, he had made the future unstable. Yes, he had revealed the evil man's identity who was not supposed to be there, but he had also made the situation slightly real with his involvement. Now, he did not know what would happen next. He could not predict Voldemort's next move. He was just like the students now, unaware of what the outside world hid in their shadows. Except, he may have a slightly better idea than they did. That was barely a consolation.

That was why he was at the library; researching.

There were so many books around, but not one had information about the spell Alice had cast on him. He didn't want to know much, just the facts- how long did he have in this place? Were there side-effects to this? Was this a curse or a sweet gift? Which was it?

Draco's answers weren't answered but he found a book that made him feel slightly better. It was on a sunday when all the students had gone out for the Hogsmeade trip. Draco didn't go. Instead, he stayed in and read the book. It was called _Spell Guide for Pranksters_. One of the spells especially caught Draco's interest and he decided that he would go to the Great Hall the next day, and find out if it was as fun as it sounded.

He had also been doing a lot of thinking. Some of his thinking involved his father and the summer break at the end of term. He wanted to return to the Manor, he didn't want to be disowned but, he also wished he didn't have to. He didn't think he had enough resolve to face his father, who was still alive and not mad from a visit at Azkaban. What would he act like if Draco faced him again, after all those years? Would he be able to look Lucius in the eye and say to his heart's content, what he always needed to say?

There was also, one thought that was truly the most frustrating and kept echoing in his mind like a defect. _I can save my family. _

It was frustrating because Draco tried to tell himself: _No. No, I can't save them. They're the only ones who can save themselves. I can't do anything. _

But the voice repeated much louder, louder until Draco wanted to clamp a hand on his ears.

Some days he just wanted to scream and vent-out all the sadness that was suddenly waiting to tear down at him but, he never gave himself the chance and the next time he woke up, he forgot about it all.

-0-

His friends had accepted Draco's isolation for that one-week in stead, surprisingly not questioning him much when he finally decided to walk with them to the Great Hall. And then, he found out the reason why when they were reaching the Hall for breakfast.

"So, now that you are done with your extremely unreasonable leave as our self-appointed leader, what are you going to do next?" It seemed like Queenie was innocently unaware that they weren't supposed to talk about it because Zabini and Pansy had started to give her looks.

Draco, noticing them, cast a suspicious once-over at his friends. "What do you mean?"

"She doesn't mean anything." Pansy said, waving dismissively and smiling like a polite honey bo'. "Do you, Queenie?"

Queenie rolled her eyes. "No, I do mean something. Come on, Draco, don't play the innocent game: who are you going to snog this time?"

Draco's eyes bulged out and he gave her an incredulous look as he heard simultaneous sighs of defeat from his other friends. "You're kidding."

"No, we are not. Now that the secret is out-" Zabini glared accusingly at Queenie. "Draco, we want you to..." he trailed off, apparently at a loss on words.

"Make those fucking straights bend the wrong way." Binny, a Slytherin fourth-year decided to be helpful and tell it like it was.

Draco glared at the bloke. "WHAT?"

"Don't act so shocked. You've done it before, obviously. So, you can do it again." Pansy said coolly.

Draco was speechless. "You cannot believe that I am going to go there and kiss the snot out of any straight guy, hoping that he would turn gay- just because you asked me to do so?"

"Look, Draco." Nott stepped up from behind his crew and gave Draco a cold stare. "We have not mailed our parents about your unfortunate choices and the acts that you are playing here. And you know that if our parents know, your father will know soon enough. But, since your famous snog on the Ravenclaw captain, you have become popular in a good way. And the Slytherin House has gotten a bit of glory with it." Draco was starting to get why they were tolerating his mood-swings. He could not believe it. _The wankers!_ "Your move has put us at an advantage and now, everyone wants an encore. You can choose any random bloke and snog him, we don't care. As long as you make it good, the crowd will love you and we, Slytherins, will get a favorable response."

Draco's eyebrow twitched in annoyance before he narrowed his eyes at them all. "Fine." he spit out. Nott nodded at him silently and Draco turned around, continuing to walk to the Hall where every student's head turned at his entrance and eyed him as he slowly made his way to the seat at his Slytherin table.

Feeling annoyed all of a sudden, Draco drank a bit of fruit punch in a gulp and grimaced as he put the cup down.

"Alright?" Pansy asked, raising an eyebrow.

Draco grimaced, harshly glaring at the table. "No."

She looked surprised before blinking. "Oh, come on, Draco. You were the one who started this, for whatever reason. Why do you not like it now?"

Zabini smiled all of a sudden. "Oh, it is because our little prince is in love."

Draco stilled, gripping his fork hard before he put that away too. "I am not." he vehemently denied.

"He is. He told me it was not a Hufflepuff. And I can guess it is not a Ravenclaw. I'm thinking that he has it for one of those Gryffindors."

"Really?" Queenie looked extremely interested. She looked at Draco with a smile. "Who?"

"Nobody." He gritted out. Then, winced at their dubious expressions. Perhaps, it was a bad idea to come here. He was in a bad mood, he could tell from the lump on his throat and the stiffness on his back. He sighed, breathing in and out while ignoring his friends who were looking at him curiously. "I don't love anyone." he admitted in a more relaxed tone, his throat was closing up again and he tried to breath through his mouth.

"Draco, are you alright?" A hand touched his back gently. He shook his head. "You should go-"

"No." Pansy looked up to Nott who had spoken just now. "It's been a week already and we promised them this today."

Draco felt miserable just then.

"Can't it be at dinner? He obviously doesn't feel like it. Maybe, he won't be able to do it if he's not in the mood." Pansy tried to pend for him reasonably.

"Look at the Head table. Right now, there are only Professor Flitwick and Professor Sprout but you know, at dinner that other Professors and the Headmaster will be there. Do you want him to get expelled for sexual harassment?"

"But-"

"I'm fine." He looked up from the table and stared straight at Nott. "I'll do it now."

Nott smiled his business smile. "Then, do it."

"Find me a bloke to snog, first." Draco requested, because at this moment, he really did not feel like searching for some half-baked bloke who was not Potter. To search the Hall for someone other than Potter- there was no competition. It would always be Potter.

"Alright." Nott agreed, looking behind Draco to the other tables and smirked crookedly. "James Homer, jr."

"Who?" Draco looked at where Nott was looking at and stared at the bloke at the Hufflepuff table, his hair dirty blond and shrugged. "That guy?" He pointed to the bloke who looked up just then and stared directly at Draco.

"I'm letting you off easy. He won't even need a push. You just need to walk up to him and sit on his lap and he'll be all yours."

Draco blinked and then, remembered something. He murmured: "_Eaveo_." under his breath and suddenly, he was able to hear the chatter around the Hall at a clear pitch. None of the conversations around were out of his reach and with some concentration, he focused on where the Golden Trio's voices were. The spell he had been waiting to test out was this one; the eavesdropping spell. A fun and useful spell, it was.

"Here. What do you think?" Granger was saying.

"What are these?" Weasley asked.

"S.P.E.W. Badges, of course. I've been making them, how do they look?"

"Terrific, Hermione. Right, Ron?" Potter's voice was soothing in a way to Draco's nerves.

"Bloody terrific. What are these for, anyway?"

"Draco, we're not going to wait forever." Nott was saying from somewhere. Draco gestured for him to quiet down and stood up. Suddenly, the whole Hall went silent and stilted at his move. Except for the Golden Trio who seemed to be avoiding the target of everyone else's attention. Draco could feel the waves of expectations from all the students around him as he walked.

"And we will take these badges and sell them to anyone who feels the same way I do about House-Elf rights." Granger was saying.

"Who's going to buy them?" Weasley was saying in an incredulous tone.

"You, for one." Granger sounded professionally determined. Draco was impressed and he didn't realize until he noticed that he was smirking now.

He smirked some more as he reached that James Hower or whatever. Nott was right. The bloke seemed to be making no protests as Draco simply sat down at his lap, throwing his legs on either side of the boy and now, he heard Granger's sharp intake of breath as she noticed the spectacle.

"I can't believe him! He's doing it again. Didn't he learn from the last time Davies tried to attack him?" she sounded disbelieving too.

Weasley choked. "My eyes- they burn. Harry, tell me when it's over, I'm not going to watch while Malfoy- ugh!"

Draco's smirk widened a little as he leaned into James or whatever his name was- and waited a bit, hoping he could hear Potter's voice again. Why was the git so quiet, anyway?

"What makes you think I'm going to watch this, either?" Potter's voice came out and Draco's lips touched the boys who, very enthusiastically pressed against Draco and returned the kiss with fervor. _What the hell?_

Draco closed his eyes and faked a moan, "Ah." he meshed their lips together heatedly, letting their tongues meet and caught the boy's hair in his hands. It was a furious kiss, really, all an indication of what Draco was feeling inside. It lasted long moments where everyone held their breath, watching and Draco participated while thinking of Potter: if he could only hear what Potter was feeling about this, Draco would die a happy man.

The boy had caught Draco's back in a tight grip and Draco pulled away barely before Hower was pouncing. The boy turned him easily so that he was the one sitting on the bench and Hower was on top. He made a keen sound at the back of his throat, pushing his arse down against the hard bench as the table behind him dug at his back. There were fingers digging at the nape of his neck and he pulled away from the kiss to arch his neck, "Ah." he made the sound again.

"That IS ENOUGH!" Professor Flitwick, small as he was, was running their way. Professor Sprout was right behind, looking flustered and nervous. Draco and Hower pulled away from each other completely and watched as both of their Professors gave detentions to them and took points off both Houses.

Draco tried to insist that it was his fault but they seemed not to accept. He shrugged apologetically to the boy who just seemed too happy to smile at Draco and shake his head as if whatever had happened had been heavenly. Draco wondered why his influence on every boy he snogged was like this and returned to his friends with a skeptical frown.

"Well, that was hot." Zabini commented. When they all looked at him, Zabini hastily added: "Well, it was, wasn't it?"

"It was." Pansy said dreamily. Queenie nodded.

"I haven't seen anything like it. And it was better than before."

Draco grimaced. It was only going to get much worse.


	8. Part I, chapter eight: The Anathema

**Title**: For the First time

**Author**: Mabu  
**Rating:** NC-17  
**Genre:** Romance, Angst, Humor, Adult, Violence.**  
****Disclaimer**: Property of JK Rowling. Quotes from the book may be repeated in here since time is turning.

* * *

'How did you feel?' Alice asked, sitting down beside Draco.

'About what?' He inquired, swirling around the content in his glass over and over.

'About the war.' she spoke, smiling as she then, ordered the bartender for another beer.

Draco thought about it, eyes glazed over before he frowned. 'I don't understand what you're trying to ask.'

Alice turned to give him a quick look before looking away, elbows on the counter as she tilted her head. 'What were your emotions during it, after it? Maybe.' she inquired.

'Fear.' he answered automatically.

'After it?'

'Relief.'

'That's it?'

Draco shook his head. 'Lots of emotions but, those were the highlights.'

She moved her head to follow the beat of the music in the background. 'Huh.'

He looked at her curiously and she explained her randomness: 'I didn't feel anything for the war, that's why.'

He rolled his eyes at her. 'Honestly.'

She looked sheepish, smiling thinly. Then, her expression turned serious. 'I saw the gore and blood with my own eyes. Couldn't avoid coming across it, of course. And there was my mother lying on a heap of dead bodies." Draco was surprised she was telling him anything about her so he turned to her, interested. 'And I just looked at her, she was still alive. Choking and waiting for me to save her. But, I... didn't. I walked away because, she was a burden to me. She was an annoyance from the start so, I left her.'

Draco whistled. 'Wow.'

She smiled. 'You would care, wouldn't you? For your mother and father. If they died, you would feel sad, won't you?'

'They already did.' he answered dryly.

'But your mother's alive.' she protested, frowning.

'Is she?' he asked.

* * *

**Chapter eight: The Anathema **

* * *

Narcissa Malfoy's letter came in the morning. It was the beginning of October, and Halloween was coming closer. The students gathered around the Hall were busy chattering about their up-coming guests. Draco was sitting at his breakfast table when his owl dropped it in front of him and sat at his shoulder, nipping at his cheek. Draco fed it some cookies absentmindedly and opened his mother's letter. It went:

_Draco,_

_It seems your father has not been informed of your hooligan acts, but I have. And I discourage you from continuing this act of yours! Your father will not tolerate this, you must understand. I don't know what happened to change your preference but please, do not make a mark on the Malfoy name. I only say this for your welfare._

_Also, how are you? Are they bludgeoning you, by any chance? You must tell me, if they are. I will talk to Serverus, if it is so. But you take care of yourself. And I am telling you to stop before you come to any harm._

_Love,  
your mother._

Draco folded the letter back into the envelope cleanly and brushed his owl's feather gently, looking at it with contemplative eyes.

"Your mother?" Pansy asked. Draco nodded blankly, putting his hand away from the owl as it flew away. He stood up and casting a distracted farewell, he left the Great Hall.

His mother was right. She was always right, even when she did not know that Draco was not the same as she had known anymore. He should stop this stupid kissing game before he seriously went too far. But, his Slytherin friends had got it in their head that whatever Draco had started to do was treasure. The good popularity that Nott had mentioned days ago from Draco's snogging unexpected bystanders was that, they were getting good profit out of it. James Homer, Jr. was one of their sell-outs who bid for Draco's next lip-to-lip. Draco had found this out and more from his new eavesdropping spell that he activated at every hour, listening in to what the gossip said.

It wasn't as if Draco really was being treated in kind, but he had gathered a large amount of fan-girls to his side, which is always a bonus, though never good for the jealous opposing parties who had been crushing on the girls. Draco didn't know why they suddenly up and started to notice his manly yet, queer endearments when it had always been there being flaunted around in the corridors. Draco could have tried to reason it to himself that it was, because of his tactless and rash behavior on randomly assaulting some poor sod's mouth. But the answer was given from one of his eavesdropped conversation.

It was a conversation going on in the Slytherin common room, Blaise and Pansy contemplating on what really changed.

"It's just, he's got a different sway to him. Still Draco, mind you." Pansy started. "But it's as if there's a new light to his steps. Have you noticed it? The way he walks, you just have to notice his arse tight against his trousers, bare for public to see." Draco had winced at that.

"Yeah, that's called sexy walk." Zabini explained, amused. "He has gotten fucked, I'm telling you. No virgin or straight bloke would ever walk _like that_."

"Like what?"

"Like he fucking owned the whole Hall- no, the whole world."

"I thought Draco did that perfectly well before too."

"Yeah. But he was all talk and walk, but no action. This, though, this walk makes it feel true, somehow."

"Power with sex?"

"Yes!"

"Well, I suppose he has gotten laid or whatever. But, who?" Draco had rolled his eyes at Queenie's innocent and yet, provoking words.

"It's a Gryffindor, I'm telling you." Zabini insisted.

"You have proof?"

"Well, no. But have you noticed? He snogs any two of the House's blokes, but never a Gryffindor. One has to wonder."

"Yeah, yeah." Millicent dismissed the idea quite quickly. "Forget about the 'who', have you guys seen how he eats his breakfast? It's almost sinful watching him eat pancakes or even, a simple bread. He would do that to anything. Even pudding!"

"You mean, the sucking and licking thing he does." Goyle tried to approach awkwardly.

"And god, when he drinks-" Queenie swooned. "-water, pumpkin juice, anything! You notice the water slipping down his mouth and sliding down. It's like there's an aura around him saying: 'notice me, I'm beautiful' and generally, he always has been. But, merlin!"

There was stomping of foot and some giggling before a male cough interjected. Probably Nott, the wanker.

"Maybe, it's a spell?" Zabini suggested. "You know, pheromone potions or something like that. I wouldn't put it past Malfoy. He's clever that way."

"Well, if it were pheromone, wouldn't the proximity be limited? and from what I've seen, even after he's far away, I still think about riding him." Pansy said breathlessly.

"Yeah, and I would have been affected too. But I am not." Nott informed intelligently. "Also, I asked Professor Snape for any illegal substantial or insubstantial material around Draco. He checked and told me that excepting the fact that Draco has gone nuts, he is not emitting signs of illegal substances or spells whatsoever."

"Really? You told Professor Snape to do it? How?"

"Well, not told, particularly. Just strayed in the right direction."

Pansy snorted. "Right, like Professor Snape will be strayed."

"Whatever. I just got the necessary information, it doesn't matter how I got it." Nott said, "Just think, this is all Draco Malfoy, emitting sexual aura from him and making men from other Houses go crazy for him. This can give Slytherins an advantage we never had, in a long time." Draco hated Nott, but he- no, Zabini was right. Sex was power when you knew just how to use it and Draco knew. Oh, these small kids didn't know how much Draco knew and he craved, everyday. Every single day, without any meaningless sex, stuck in a virginal fourteen-year old boy's body and lusting after the biggest prat, Harry Potter- of course, he would emit sexual waves of pheromones.

It wasn't his fault that he was getting desperate for sex these days. But like hell he would fuck anyone of them. Draco was a virgin now, fresh and new, untouched body and uncharted territory. A territory that he could give up only to Potter, only offer to Potter and wouldn't that be a tempting deal. If only, of course.

Draco liked to keep his virginal delusions while they lasted. After all, he was in a young man's body. Might as well enjoy the youthful fantasies and self-control.

-0-

"Malfoy, we need to talk." called Granger.

Draco turned, looking at the Golden Trio as they stood together and gave him reproachful looks. His eyebrow twitched in apprehension as he raised them in expected inquiry. He had seen this coming, not from the eavesdropping spell but, his own instincts, really. Weasley and Granger had been giving him these looks from behind, whispering to each other harshly and glaring at one another while pointedly glancing at Draco. He had ignored them for the better part of the lesson and had gotten through the class without any Potter-ness but, it seemed he couldn't be left alone. So, there they stood, asking for him to talk to them.

And what could he do? Obviously, Potter had told them of what he did to reveal Barty Crouch Jr.'s real identity and now, they were going to make a fuss if Draco denied talking to them. Weasley would probably spout off all of Draco's secrets too early and he wouldn't have time to save himself from his father's evil clutches.

So, he took the gentlemanly way and smiled at the Idiotic Trio. "Of course, Granger." he turned to his minions, Crabbe and Goyle who nodded at him and left without any further questioning. After Draco's change of mind, they both had started to stop being reluctant about giving him privacy. He couldn't tell why they did. Perhaps, it was his complete aura of homosexuality that really scared them off but, no matter, it gave Draco some space, which he needed a lot these days.

"Follow me." He drawled as he walked and gestured for the Trio to follow him to a classroom nearby that was empty. When all of them had entered the room, he locked the door and cast a Silence charm. "Alright." he said after putting his wand away. "What is it that you wanted to talk about?" just when Granger was about to talk, he added: "By the way, I'm not into orgys."

Granger shut her jaw with a clack and gave him a disturbed look. Weasley just looked completely distraught and couldn't seem to close his mouth. Potter glared. Draco sighed.

"So?" He inquired coldly, leaning against the wall behind him and crossing his arms. "What is it?"

Granger recovered herself just in time and asked: "How did you know about the location of Mad-Eye Moody's real body?"

Draco kept his eyes at the ceiling and when there was an expectant silence awaiting him, he answered with a shrug. "I didn't know. I was checking to see if it was there."

"How did you know he wasn't the real Moody?" she asked abruptly, determined like an interviewee.

He bit his lip and inhaled a breath through his nose. "How...? Does it matter? I knew." he finally looked back at them, staring straight into Granger's eyes. "Is that all you wanted to know?"

"Why did you help us?" she asked, a twitch in her brow.

He snorted out of reflex. "Help you? Granger, this didn't have anything to do with you."

"Maybe, not me. But Harry had lots to do with it. Dumbledore told us that the impostor was planning on getting Harry in danger. Surely, you knew about that when you did it."

"I didn't do it to help him." He lied, trying not to look at Potter who was intensely glaring holes at him. "I just didn't like the guy and I found out some of his actions suspicious so, I tried to check his trunk for any illegal stuff. You know, so I could rot him out. Well, what I found was more than I expected but it was there."

"You're lying." Potter finally spoke and Draco couldn't help the urge so he looked back into the barely held fury of green obscured by the lenses of his round glasses. "You planned it. I knew you did. You planned for me to get me to follow you to Moody's office and then, you planned for me to hand over the trunk to Professor Dumbledore. While, you would remain clean." Draco quirked a brow, a bit impressed that the git could think through that much. "You didn't want anyone to know, didn't you? You knew he was a Death Eater from the start and that's why, you made me angry and let Moody do what he wanted without complaining to your father. They aren't telling us anything about your situation but I know." Potter's look was clearer now, more perspective as he stared into Draco's eyes, into his soul and he felt his heart stopping all of a sudden. "You don't want your father knowing. Because, he's a Death Eater."

Reckless. So reckless. If Potter would have said this to him before, Draco would have been so angry. He would have probably punched Potter on the face, without using any funny hexes. But now? What did he feel? He wasn't indignant, because Potter found out his plan or figured out something about him that he didn't even want to think about. No, he wasn't angry over that. He was just awed. Dazzled by this creature that was Potter.

He blinked, trying to move his gaze from Potter's but, he couldn't. He gulped.

"Is that true, Malfoy? Is your father-" Granger tried asking.

Draco huffed. "That's none of your business, you stupid know-it-all." he grumbled, feeling a little out-of sorts but thankfully, now he could look away from Potter. This was getting dangerous. He shouldn't be here. He couldn't.

"Hey! Don't call Hermione that." Weasley came to her defense like the perfect love-sick fool he was. Draco sneered at him before exhaling, glaring at the floor.

"I apologize. Next time, I'll take care to only call her Mudblood." He spat, wincing mentally because god, he didn't want to be this way. Not again.

"You-" Weasley was held back by Potter who kept him at arm's reach and Draco felt that twinge of envy again. What he wouldn't give to be touched, held like that.

"Stop it." Potter told his redheaded friend firmly and pulled away when Weasley had stopped struggling. Then, Potter turned to study Draco again. "What is your problem, Malfoy?" He strode across the room, closer to Draco whose mind was whirling with possibilities, with schemes, and ways he could get this person to be just that much closer. Draco resisted the wicked part of his mind and tried to feed it the lie that he was a virgin and so, he would wait like a good little virgin.

"Just when I think that you were starting to be a real human, you turn back to your old self and show us just who you really are-" Potter was walking still, reaching Draco's arm distance with those eyes of his. "-A nasty, cowardly, spoiled brat."

Draco glared at Potter. "You have some nerve, Potter." He was frustrated and so anxious about the future and there Potter was, knowing nothing at all. "To ask me what my problem is." he stepped closer to the other boy, keeping his mind solely on the fact that he was angry and righteously so. "Why I act the way I do is: None. Of. Your. Business." He grabbed Potter's shirt collar tightly, looking down on the bespectacled git who glared back defiantly and without any fear. "And you should be aware of this: not _everything_ is black and white here." he released Potter's collar as he was starting to struggle. Draco made a surrendering gesture as he backed away. "Just saying." he said, shrugging casually.

"Harry, let me handle this." Granger said, stepping up as Potter was currently left confounded and speechless. She faced Draco. "Malfoy, I know you know something about what the Death Eaters are planning. And we want to know what's going on. The most Professor Dumbledore has told Harry is that, Barty Crouch, Jr. was a Death Eater who had been known to have died after being sentenced to Azkaban by his own father, Mr. Crouch. It is known that he took over Mad-Eye's body during the summer and has been pretending to be our Professor all this time. But, why would he prepare us to fight them when he wants to kill Harry? Why was he waiting? What was he waiting for? We want answers and I think you know them."

Draco knew they wanted answers. He'd heard them whisper to each other about Harry's scar hurting and his Godfather, Sirius finding it just a bit foreboding. Then, the fact that Dumbledore didn't seem to be explaining much about Voldemort living, though completely without a body to depend on and that, Potter's blood may help resurrect him back to power. It was an information they needed but he trusted the old coot, however wrong his decisions may seem and so, Draco gave the three condescending looks and directed his gaze at Potter's scar pointedly. Hiding under the mess of Potter's dark hair, and right in a tiny corner of his forehead, it looked menacing and so fascinating.

"It's been hurting, hasn't it?" When they gave him twin looks of disbelief and shock, he smirked but the amusement couldn't quite reach his eyes. "There's this thing about blood that some Dark wizards like to use at their advantage." Granger looked interested. Potter and Weasley were challenging him with a look that dared him to say anything about that 'Mudblood' business. "A Wizard's blood is very important, not just in substance or wizardry skills, but in potions. Complicated, dark, and illegal potions that ask for a person's blood- very dangerous and horrifying for a wizard who hasn't experienced it all." He paused, giving Potter a serious look. "So, here's a fair warning: if they try to slash your wrist and preserve the blood, they're not doing it just for the hell of it. Of course, it's only a living person's blood they need. A dead one is no use to a potion, unless you want the potion to go uselessly awry."

Granger blinked as he ended his speech and had this glazed look in her eyes as if she was thinking really fast, processing it all and encoding it into her memory. "Blood...Is that why your Purebloods carry on about the inbreeding thing? It has been a controversy for a long time, hasn't it?"

"Not a history, Granger. Still present." Draco said, rubbing his forehead with his palm and closing his eyes. When a contemplative silence followed, he spoke: "Is that all? Would you guys leave? I've had enough with the whole- 'chatting' we've been doing." he wrinkled his nose to emphasize the unpleasantness in his voice.

"But how do you-"

"Potter." He gritted out. "Leave."

They were quiet for a while and then, there was a murmur of conversation that Draco wasn't even interested enough on following and so, Granger nodded at Draco and dragged the two boys to leave. Draco removed the spells around the room and let them leave before putting them back on and leaning hard against the wall behind him, sliding down until his arse hit the ground and he closed his eyes in exhaustion.

It was only a little while, or so Draco thought before a female voice interrupted his silent consideration.

"You don't look so good, are you lonely?" Draco turned to look but he already knew who the voice was. And there, Moaning Myrtle in her ghostly apparition, looking as childishly mopey as ever. "I wonder what you're thinking about? What are you thinking about? Maybe, Moaning Myrtle can help you."

Draco let a sarcastic smile cover his lips. "Can you? You're a ghost, how can you?"

"Well, I can listen." said she earnestly.

Draco chuckled. "Right." he felt relieved all of a sudden. "Then, Myrtle, will you listen to me and vow never to say a word to anybody else?"

She tilted her head and said sadly: "Moaning Myrtle does not have anyone to tell. I stay at the Girls' Bathroom on this floor, but nobody comes to visit Moaning Myrtle."

Draco craned his neck and squinted at her, he was feeling a bit sleepy suddenly. "So, why are you out here all of a sudden?"

She huffed. "Well, I do get out a bit. Not much, mind you. But I've been hearing about a boy named Draco Malfoy these days. Heard he's a real chap. So, I wanted to see him with my own eyes."

"I'm Draco Malfoy." He sputtered.

She eyed him and then, giggled. "Of course, I know now, silly."

"Oh." he said before smiling. "So, am I good-looking bloke, then? By your standards, of course."

She giggled harder and he could feel a part of him going 'Wow, are you seriously finding consolation in a ghost, dimwit? And Moaning Myrtle, at that!' but another part was just content to have someone to listen who wouldn't think hard enough on Draco's words and not be a complete downer, in the end. Myrtle may moan and bitch and cry, really, but, she was a clown at best.

"More than even." she pushed her translucent hand on his shoulder to playfully punch but it went right through. "Oh, sorry." She didn't seem to sorry about it, she was smiling.

Draco tried not to roll his eyes. "Right."

"So, what were you upset about?" she questioned.

"Hm," he thought about it. "Well, I'm in love with someone, you see." that was the easy part.

"Oh! Is it a boy?" she asked, looking so excited about the prospect.

"Yes." he answered her warily.

She wildly gasped before swooning. "I've never met a boy who likes another boy. It must be something. How is it? How does it feel? I want to know everything!"

"Hello." he waved a hand at her. "Pretty boy upset here, please."

"Sorry." she said again, not seeming sorry at all. He ignored her and relaxed a bit, thinking about what he had been upset about.

Finally, he spoke: "I feel like I'm far ahead and the one I want is back there, behind me. And I... I turn around and try to walk on his wavelength." He could imagine it: every person surrounding him a gray blur, the background a black sheet, and a thin white line connecting him and Potter. "But there is this conflict that I have to resolve before I'm able to freely do what my heart desires." And Lucius is there, standing right in between the line, blocking his vision of Potter's and looking at him in that disapproving manner, calling to him all the responsibilities of a Malfoy with the set of his jaw and his fierce, steely eyes.

"And that is to be with him?" Myrtle questioned, oblivious to the frustration building beneath his skin as he was reminded why he could not tell them outright what he knew. Why he could not show Potter physically the terrible ache that was locked and sealed inside. At Draco's absent nod, she said: "Ooh, this is so romantic."

Draco didn't find anything remotely romantic about it. Potter hated him- no, he probably thought nothing of Draco. _But he's been thinking about what you were doing, what you did. _A part of him chided.

_And I blew that off, didn't I? Now, he's not going to think about me anymore. Just ignore me, that's all he's capable of. _He told himself.

He continued: "I know that in the future, things will be resolved like they always have been. That, everything will be alright, in the end." He paused, shaking his head to himself. "But today, I am helpless and frustrated. I cannot go to him, can't ask him to forgive me, can't demand of him that he should be only with me, only look at me, admire me, respect me, adore me, and love me." Myrtle looked curiously at him. He smiled somberly. "It's pathetic to have an unrequited love, you see. At least, for a Malfoy, it is. That's why, I'm trying to make myself feel better by snogging any good-looking, hot bloke so I could feed my ego the fact that I may be in love with a stupid dimwit, but the Malfoy charm has not gone and flew off. It is still here, very much alive and kicking."

"Hm, I see." Myrtle assented and then, giggled. "It seems that you love the wrong person, then. Why don't you give up on him?"

He didn't answer, envisioning a life without obsessing over Potter. His smile turned a bit twisted at the image his mind drew out for him. "Ah, but that's no fun. If I gave up on him this easily, life just wouldn't be so good anymore."

Myrtle looked at him quietly before saying: "Whatever." she flew up, out of Draco's view and pointedly turned away from him in a condescending way. "It's not fair that you get to have fun while, I don't."

"You had your chance." He murmured sheepishly.

She gave him a glare before humphin' and leaving through a wall at the other side. Draco watched the wall for a while and realized he felt a bit alright now that he told_ somebody_. With a light heart, he smiled and closed his eyes, leaned back comfortably on the wall to rest a bit after a strenuous day.

And fell asleep on the cold floor of an empty classroom with his ward spells dispersing as he became unconscious.

Bad idea, that was.


	9. Part I, chapter nine: The Anathema II

**Title**: For the First time

**Author**: Mabu  
**Rating:** NC-17  
**Genre:** Romance, Angst, Humor, Adult, Violence.  
**Warning**: Rape. POV change.  
**Disclaimer**: Property of JK Rowling. Quotes from the book may be repeated in here since time is turning.

* * *

**Chapter nine:**

**The Anathema**

**Part II**

* * *

Draco woke up to the sound of his name being called and a blurry profile in front of him, shaking him roughly as he opened his eyes blearily.

At first, he thought it was Potter in front of him, he didn't know why he thought that, but he started to say his name: "Pott-" and then, paused, squinting his eyes as the person's face cleared up and he could see that it wasn't in fact, Potter.

"Flint?" Draco was more than a little disoriented and he cleared his throat, looking around him and noticing that he was still in the classroom, and had been sleeping sitting up. He must have been really tired. He groaned. "Bugger, I missed my class, didn't I?" Professor Binn probably hadn't noticed he was missing, but he shouldn't be skipping classes if he wanted to keep a good grade.

His father may, by some fluke, not know about Draco's adventurous activities, but he would know about Draco's misbehavior at school, there was no doubt about it and so, Draco had to be diligent and studious for that image he still had to keep.

He turned to Flint who was holding his shoulders still, he noticed. "What are you doing here?" He glanced at the other side, raking a hand through his hair. "How long was I passed out?"

Flint had a grim smile on his face and it looked even more eerie with the darkness shrouding in the classroom. "A while." he answered the second question and continued to stare at him. Draco fought not to fidget under the scrutiny and brushed Flint's hands off him. He stood up and dusted off the minuscule dirt on his pants and shirt.

"Are you okay?" Draco paused in brushing off the dirt and gave a downward glance at Flint who was standing up and coming to Draco's eye-level.

"Yes, I'm fine." Draco answered, feeling a bit nervous as he eyed the door to the classroom. It was closed. "So, what are you doing here?"

Flint tilted his head and gave a strange smile. "Your friends have been looking for you. It's almost curfew and you couldn't be found so, I went with them to help find you." _Help. Right. Of course, I overslept and they were worried. _Draco felt bad to have made them worried and nodded slightly at Flint, ready to leave.

It was then, when he was stepping forward to leave that Flint caught his wrist and he found himself being yanked backward. He tripped, gasping and found himself back between the wall and the towering body of Marcus Flint.

"Wha-"

Draco was confounded as he stared. Draco may have been tall but, Flint was taller and he could feel the power he owned leaving him in a moment of doubt and suspicion over to the boy above him.

"Do you know?" Flint held up Draco's hands in his palm, looking at their adjoined hands and smiled that twisted smile. "You look beautiful when you're sleeping."

"What?" he repudiated, backing away until his back hit the wall. "What are you talking about?"

Flint looked up at him and his eyes were all strange. "I was the first person you kissed, wasn't I?" Draco's eyes widened marginally large and his whole body became ice-cold as comprehension dawned with Flint's every waking word. "You wanted me to notice you and I did. Didn't you see? I noticed you and then, what did you do? You went there and made me notice you more. I saw you snog_ them _and I knew you didn't want them like you_ wanted me_. I knew that. That's why, I'm here."

Draco opened his mouth to retort when both of his wrists were pushed to the wall beside him.

"You love me." Flint said, smiling again. Draco stared at him, dumbfounded. "That's why you've been doing all you can to frustrate me. You've been playing mind-games and normally, I don't like it when someone does that to me, but you- you make it look _so goo_d." Draco was starting to regret ever snogging Marcus Flint. Merlin, the bloke was obsessed if he had delusions like these. "But you can stop now. Game over. You win: I want you." and then, he moved his head up to kiss Draco but, Draco turned his head just in time, keeping his mouth sealed and uninviting.

Flint stared at him for a moment before chuckling, "I told you to stop it, didn't I, Draco?" his grip went evidently tighter on Draco's arms and his eyes were going wildly crazy.

_Was he under Imperius, perhaps? _Draco tried to reason because, he knew Marcus Flint and the bloke wasn't anything like this. He was actually pretty cool about everything. Draco had even shared a snog with him before in his dimension, but it seems this Flint just couldn't take a snog and be perfectly laid-back about it this time.

_Or he has issues._

"I like your neck." Flint said as he bit slightly on Draco's neck, sucking on it before biting it again. It was more like, chewing really. He kept chewing on Draco's neck and tore his shirt apart without a warning.

Draco yelped as his bare skin was revealed, the torn up buttons went flying to the ground in a clatter and he felt something slowly reaching his chest. It was fear.

He reacted then, pushing at Flint's hands fiercely and when he got out of the grip, he pushed at Flint's chest and tore away from the man. He quickly dug for his wand but, found it empty.

"Looking for this?" Flint asked, waving around Draco's wand like a toy. "You just don't listen, do you? Here. _Incarcerous."_

Ropes bound themselves around Draco's wrist, clean-cut and coming to locate them behind his back.

"This should keep you here for awhile." Draco struggled against the tight ropes and growled under his breath.

"Let me go." He breathed out angrily. Flint stepped towards him and put his arms around Draco's side.

"Do you know how gorgeous you are?" Flint asked rhetorically, looking deviously insane from his position. "So sexy. So unbelievably hot."

Draco felt the jab of Flint's hard-on on his pelvis and panicked.

"Flin- Marcus. I-Ow!" Flint pushed him and taken off-guard, Draco fell off-balance on the ground as Flint straddled his hip, looking menacing from up there.

"No, wait. Shite!" Draco cursed as Flint started to undo the buttons of his trousers and with unbelievable speed, took them off while Draco tried with all his power to make it impossible. "No, wait. Flint, you can't."

Flint wasn't listening, he was hurriedly unbuttoning his own trousers with a very determined look. The hunger in his eyes was evident, the urge so potent that Draco knew this insane thing was going to be executed, unless he did something to stop Flint.

"Wa-Wait! I don't want this!" He insisted as a last-ditch attempt to get out of this. His heart was hammering in his chest, so loud he could hear it under the panting and heavy breaths in the empty classroom.

"I can't wait, baby." Flint purred on Draco's skin before biting it harshly.

_Brilliant. _Draco thought, as he was roughly assaulted. _He has a nickname for me. Just Brilliant._

-0-

While Draco's misfortune continued to be so, one student in Hogwarts lay wide awake in his bed, looking at a parchment with his glasses on.

That student was of course, Harry Potter and the parchment that he was looking at was The Marauder's Map. He had only picked up the golden map to check on Hogwarts before going back to sleep, since he had become quite the paranoid boy after all his D.A.D.A. teachers turned to be Voldemort's followers, werewolves, or phonies. But that plan was defused when he noticed that right at the center of a classroom near the Defense Against Dark Arts classroom, there was something going on. It was a bunch of Slytherin students out of their beds during curfew. Harry was curious. The dots of Pansy Parkinson, Blaise Zabini, Theodore Nott, Marcus Flint, and Draco Malfoy showed.

Harry had a nagging suspicion that whatever it was couldn't be good and resolved to go and check what the Slytherins were planning himself. Just as he was getting out of bed and sneakily take out his Invisible cloak from his trunk, he heard the bed near him creak and he looked up as his friend, Ron Weasley sleepily sat up on his bunk bed.

"Where you going?" Ron asked sleepily, rubbing his eyes and yawning with a languish.

Harry gave him a look and took the cloak out, spreading it and showing it to Ron whose eyes widened in understanding.

"I think there's something going on out there. I'm just going to check." He answered in a low voice, gathering the cloak to his shoulders and ready to step out the dorm.

"Wait." Ron said, getting out of bed himself and coming to stand beside Harry. "I'm going too."

Harry shrugged, shifting a little and letting Ron come with him under the cloak. Together, they walked down, out of the Gryffindor's common room and to the classroom where Draco Malfoy was.

-0-

It was the same classroom where Malfoy had lead them to, to have a talk. Harry remembered after they reached the outside of the classroom, invisible to the Slytherins out in the hall. Zabini was leaning against a wall, with crossed arms and a look of confusion. Parkinson was pacing from one place to another, looking frustrated and jerking to a stop every time a scream came out of the classroom. Nott was just blankly watching all this with a relaxed posture.

After maybe, the third time Parkinson stopped once and for all, and turned to Nott.

"Can we really be sure that he likes this?" she asked, her eyes pleading.

Nott shook his head. "Parkinson, calm down. He's a faker, it's not hurting him. He wants this."

Parkinson glared at him. "Doesn't sound like he does." As a proof of her words, the scream got scorchingly loud.

Nott shrugged. "Well, It's already begun, we can't stop it."

Parkinson looked at the ground for a moment as the cries from inside the classroom filled the hallway and then, turned sharply to look at Zabini. "What about you? What do you think? Is it really alright to leave Draco like this? What if he finds out? He's never going to forgive us!"

"Pansy." Zabini said. "This isn't about what Draco wants. We're getting profit out of this and he's been asking for it by the way he was acting. It's his punishment for being uncooperative."

"Draco has been doing just fine!" Parkinson yelled.

Zabini and Nott glared at her. She blanched.

Nott spoke: "Emotions are a weakness, Parkinson. And you saw it: Draco was getting out of control. He wasn't listening to us when we told him that the blokes that come to snog him are paying us galleons. He refused us and we had to pay those blokes back. It wasn't good for our business and Draco needs to be treated a lesson."

"But rape-!" Parkinson protested. Harry and Ron exchanged looks under the cloak. Both couldn't see each other's face in the dark and such close proximity, but knew that both of them were thinking the same thing. They backed away from the Slytherins on sync and hid behind a wall. Harry took the cloak off minimally till both of their heads were cleared.

"What do we do?" Ron whispered.

Harry thought about it and then, spoke: "We need to get help." He had dealt with a lot; facing Voldemort in first year, a Basilisk in second year, and a werewolf and dementors in third year, but dealing with something like this was new and unfamiliar. He didn't know what to do, except for saving Malfoy from the clutches of Flint.

Ron seemed to understand what he was feeling and nodded, asking: "Who?"

Harry took out the map from his pocket and checked it. "Snape." he murmured softly, noticing that the dot was closer than others. He looked back to see Ron's expression turn to horror.

"No!"

Harry shook his head. "I'm going to try and get inside the classroom. You, on the other hand, will go and get Snape."

Ron gave him a dirty look. "Why should I be the one to get him? Why not you?" Harry turned to give him a look and Ron sighed in defeat. "Fine. But you better save Malfoy's arse before it's too late."

Harry winced at the idea of it and instructed Ron the direction to where Snape was. Ron nodded, looking scared and horrified at the idea of meeting Snape in the middle of the night and got out of the cloak, sneaking past to a turn, and ran out of sight. Harry waited for a minute to ready his nerves before with silent steps, he moved towards the group in the hallway.

The three Slytherins had _Lumos _on their wands so, Harry could pretty much see without getting lost. Parkinson and Nott were still spouting off at each other and Zabini was gritting his teeth in irritation. Harry sneaked past them without a problem and looked at the door in front of him. It was slightly open and Harry could see slight movements of what he could imagine being Malfoy and Flint. He hesitated, wondering if he had any right to interfere.

Slytherins could do whatever the hell they wanted, but was it really his business.

Then, he remembered the Malfoy they saw just today and made up his mind, stepping sideways through the door, and slipping inside. It was only minutes later that the door closed behind him completely, but Harry couldn't really concentrate on that when in front of him, Draco Malfoy, the boy who taunted Harry and his friends all three years, was being debauched and assaulted so aggressively.

"You know you want it." Flint was saying, brutal in his thrusts and yanking Malfoy's pale, blond hair back, as Malfoy sobbed, and whimpered. _Whimpered! _Harry saw a lot of problems with the sight, but could not say which one was the most unbelievable.

Malfoy was face-down on the ground, Flint on top of him. They were nearly naked, Harry didn't need to see anything else before he was taking out his wand, flapping off his cloak, and casting a spell: "_Reducto!_" on Flint.

Flint, who had just noticed Harry's appearance when he stepped off his cloak, looked in shock as he was spelled off of Malfoy's body and landed on the ground with a thud, going unconscious.

Malfoy was still for a moment, breathing heavily before his knees gave out on him and he lay on the ground with his cheek resting on the floor. His eyes closed halfway, and slowly, he directed his gaze at Harry.

"Potter." he breathed out, his voice shaking slightly.

Harry stepped closer hesitantly "Are you alright?"

Malfoy stared at him for a moment, his grey eyes clearing a bit and then, huffed: "Of course, I'm not." He may have sounded just normal except his breath was stuttering. Then, he jerked at his hands that were tied behind his back with ropes. Harry stepped toward him, looking down at the struggling, bare profile of his arch-nemesis. Harry had always thought Malfoy deserved a good kicking to the arse too, but not like this. Out of all the strange things happening around Malfoy since the beginning of term, this was one of the strangest.

Harry knelt on the ground and hesitantly brought his hand up. Malfoy stayed silent as Harry untied the ropes from his wrist. When he was done, his eyes strayed to Malfoy's naked arse and without caring, he stared as he noticed something wet and red there.

Harry gulped, eyes enlarging as he took in the boy's state of undress. "Are you bleeding?" he asked.

Malfoy paused and stared at Harry for a moment of contemplation, before he turned his head and stared- or tried to stare at his arse. "Er." Malfoy seemed to hesitate before he shrugged, turning away from the sight and stared at the ground. "That happens when you're fucked without preparation." there was some bitterness and anger in his voice.

Harry stared, wondering how much that had hurt and didn't say anything for a while.

Draco grunted as he turned around with his back on the ground, and started to bend, picking up his trouser that were pooled at his ankles and lifted it up until it reached his thighs. He looked at them for a moment before giving up. There was silence for a moment as Malfoy lay back on the ground.

"Erm," Harry said, fidgeting a little. "Ron's coming with help."

Malfoy chuckled. "Weasley's helping me?" He frowned. "Wait, how did you-" Harry was reluctant to tell him about Malfoy's friends' betrayal and stared as Malfoy's pale brows furrowed in confusion. "How did you find me?"

"I have my sources." Harry said, evading the truth and stood up to pick up two wands off the floor. "Which one's yours?" he asked, turning to Malfoy.

The blond-haired boy stared at the wands with an intense look before sitting up again. He held his hand out for Harry.

Harry noticed his wrist was red and bruised as he handed both of the wands in Malfoy's hand without thinking about it. Malfoy clutched them, closing his eyes and smiled crookedly.

Harry blinked as Malfoy put one away, held the other in both of his hands, and snapped it in two. Malfoy was smirking and Harry guessed that that was Flint's wand.

"The fucking wanker." grumbled Malfoy, smirking amusedly. "See how he takes that." He turned to look at the unconscious 'wanker', as Malfoy called it and then, turned to stare up at Harry with That Look in his eyes. The same look he gave Harry the time he snogged Roger Davies the second time. The same look he gave Harry every time he was in, what Seamus called, Seductive Mode. Harry didn't really know what the look was about, what it meant, but he was pretty sure it wasn't- shouldn't be directed at him. But there it was.

And so, Harry concluded that he wasn't making it all up: Malfoy actually was giving him That Look. Harry recognized the look, because he kept looking at Cho Chang with the same look. So, he recognized it but, he just could not believe it.

"Harry!" The door opened and Ron came in, looking panicked, but as he noticed Harry standing there, unharmed, he sighed in relief.

"Get out of my way, Mr. Weasley." Snape pushed past Ron, ignored Harry, and came to quickly kneel in front of Malfoy, who was staring in shock at his Head. "Malfoy," Snape looked lost for words, staring at Malfoy's condition. "We need to get you to Madam Pomfrey."

"Is he alright?" Parkinson came in, looking worried and guilty at the same time. Harry was a bit disgusted at her and turned to peek at Malfoy before he stopped to stare.

"Pansy?" Malfoy was looking so lost, his face pale in the dark. "What are you doing here?"

Parkinson avoided his eyes, looking anywhere but at him. Her eyes met Harry's halfway and she looked away. "I-I..."

Snape's voice interrupted her. "We don't have time for this. You can get infection if you wait. Potter, Weasley, come and help me get him up." He held Malfoy's arm and made him get up. Harry and Ron rushed towards them, and looked awkwardly to each other as Snape handed the Slytherin blond to them. With Malfoy's one arm on Harry's shoulder, and another on Ron's- they started following Snape out of the classroom. They stopped to where Pansy was still standing.

"Ms. Parkinson, you and the other two who ran away-" He said to her, looking disgusted. "And that boy-" he gestured to the still unconscious Flint. "-will show up at my office tomorrow, unless, of course, you decide to quit school for your horrendous actions."

Parkinson swallowed, her eyes downward. "Yes, sir."

They continued to walk, but Malfoy forced them to stop again. "Pansy." he said her name.

"Yes, Draco." her voice sounded regretful.

"You did not sell my body, did you?" Malfoy asked as if it was just that simple. _Selling a fellow classmates body for- for what?_ Harry couldn't even try and think about it.

Parkinson inhaled sharply before she looked to the side, away from them. "It was Nott's idea."

Malfoy scoffed. "And you just listened to him?" when Pansy continued to look away, he shook his head. "Thank you, Pansy. I know now just why I rejected you."

Parkinson looked up then, but they were already walking away. Just as they were turning, Harry saw her eyes glistening with tears and looked away.

_So, Slytherins do have a heart. _He thought as he carried Malfoy to the infirmary.

-0-

It should have been rewarding; to have Harry Potter, the fantasy of his every dream come and save him from the clutches of evil like it was nothing. But, Draco had lost his second virginity to Marcus Fucking Flint so, he could not be told to be happy about it at all.

"How are you feeling?" Pomfrey asked from somewhere. Draco turned to look at her and she raised her eyebrows kindly, waiting. She probably had never looked at him that way before.

Draco gave a humorless smile. "Just peachy." he commented, stretching out his arms and stared at the ceiling. It was morning, and it was the aftermath that Draco was left with. Potter and Weasley had left after sending him to the infirmary and Snape had gone for a while, probably to punish the Slytherins who planned this.

And Draco was alone again. Always alone.

He sighed.

_Why the bloody hell did this happen?, _He thought to himself. Regardless of what happened in that room, whatever anger Draco felt to be treated such a way without his permission, he still felt like he deserved answers for what was done to him and why it was done to him.

Why had everything got so fucked over? Why did his friends- Draco thought of them as his friends, whether they did or not- betrayed him so selfishly?

_I guess. _Malfoy thought with a grimace. _Slytherins are heartless._

-0-

"Draco." his name was called.

Draco opened his eyes, realizing he had fallen asleep again and then, looked up into the cold, disapproving eyes of his father standing over him. Shocked and surprised, Draco got out of bed.

_No. Not so soon. _Draco tried to wish the man he called his Father away as he stared at his sheets, but now that he saw, he could feel the frightening gaze on his back.

"Father." Draco addressed, his voice stammering and his heart starting to accelerate fast.

His father stared for an eternity before he sat down. "Your mother has been worried about you."

"Has she?" Draco cursed himself for not writing to her sooner. Getting no mail from him, she probably thought Draco was in danger.

"I told her she had nothing to worry about." Lucius' voice was hard and unreadable yet, Draco knew impending doom when he saw one. "'Our boy can take care of himself.' I said. And I believed that too." His father's hand moved within the vicinity of Draco's vision and Lucius gripped Draco's face hard, to make him look up.

Draco lifted his eyes, dreading and saw his father staring, eyes as dangerously menacing and voice as sharp as a knife. "It seems you have disappointed me, son."

Draco felt it inside him, the coldness spreading and he knew his father was dangerous despite what he had witnessed him being in Voldemort's reign. Draco had at that time realized that his father was not as powerful and domineering as he pretended to be and it had left him bereft and fearful of the days before him. He became aware that his father not being in charge and Draco thought of rebellion, of running to the other side, and indirectly, to Potter.

"I'm sorry, father." Draco said in return, because he wasn't done with Lucius Malfoy yet.

He could be a useful asset as a Father once, Voldemort came to power. And Draco feared he would, despite his warnings to Potter. Because Potter was thick-headed, reckless, and a Gryffindor. And Voldemort was out for blood, he wouldn't stop at anything to get what he wanted.

Draco could just hope he wouldn't have to lose more than he already had in his previous lifetime.


	10. Part I, chapter ten: Grieve for the Fun

**Title**: For the First time

**Author**: Mabu  
**Rating:** NC-17  
**Genre:** Romance, Angst, Humor, Adult, Violence.**  
****Disclaimer**: Property of JK Rowling. Quotes from the book may be repeated in here since time is turning.

* * *

**Chapter ten: **

**Grieve for the Fun**

* * *

_"Beg for it!"_ A gasp and a sob, the sound of a slap.

_"You want it that bad?" _yanked up and a cry of pain and pleasure.

_"I know you, Malfoy and to me, you're just a whore."_ The sound of someone's footsteps, leaving. Abandoned. And all he ever did was smirk at their back, trying to find amusement in rejection.

_"You love me." _A desperate voice, quivering and eyes fanatastical as they lifted up to look at him. Expecting him to accept, knowing he would accept, but he didn't.

_"Too late now."_ A man said, shrugging carelessly, hands in his pocket. A suit. A muggle. Telling him to stop from coming. Another rejection. This one more painful. He couldn't smirk at this one.

_"Slut!" _Hissed out, ruthless and cruel. A cruel person, looking at him with eyes of hate and yet, he still fucked you.

"I-I-I love you." Nervous, fidgeting and innocent; he hurt her and all the others who came like her. He was the one rejecting.

"_You're a selfish prat, aren't you?" _Frustrated, infuriated- a person so close and so far, he could almost touch, but never-

"Draco Malfoy is a coward who is dreadfully afraid of the future." An adult reflecting on his disposal, telling someone else his weakness.

Voices swirled around in his head, mixing up with new voices and old voices. Stern and male, kind and cold, angry and calm; all voices were going off in his head. Draco tossed and turned, sleeping still but dreaming; dreaming of colors, people, memories, and blood.

_"I'm sorry, Draco."_ His mother, looking apologetic.

_"You have always been a disappointment."_ His father said, blocking mother's graceless, motherly profile.

_"Stop!"_ He cried, telling the person above him to 'stop' but he didn't. "_No! No, I don't want you!"_

_"You know you do. You're lying."_ The stranger was thrusting in, he didn't know him, but he was inside him.

_"Beg for it!"_

_"No!"_

_"Beg for it, you whore!"_

"NO!"

Draco woke up, breathing harshly and there were stings of tears in his eyes, burning a trail through his cheek. He looked around, he was back in the dorm, and all his mates were sleeping in. Draco tried to breathe slowly and calmly, but he was short of it and exhaled quick gulps of it, trying to gather himself into shape. _Don't think about it. Don't think about it. Don't think- _Draco bit out a sob that was screeching for him to let out but he held it in, tried to. He sniffed, touching his face and rubbing away the residue of his tears. But they kept streaming down. He panicked, looking around the room for anyone watching. They all seemed to be sleeping, Draco could tell but he just could not do this here.

He flipped off his blanket, sat up, and got out of bed. There was still a twinge at his arse, but it was better than days ago when he could hardly even move. With bare footsteps, he moved to the dormitory's bathroom, checking the stalls to see if anyone was there. Seeing that it was empty, he walked through the aisle and chose the last stall. Sitting there, he took out his wand and cast a Silence Charm.

With arms bound around his legs, his forehead on his knees, he cried through the night.

-0-

After being satisfied that Draco would behave, his father had left with a conversation that discussed the politics of what was going inside the House of Slytherin. Draco had assured him that he had nothing to worry about. After this turnabout of events, Draco would take full advantage of being a victim. His father had a proud glint in his eyes as he watched Draco tell him his plans. And then, the rest was history.

Subsequently, a week and a half later, Draco walked in the Great Hall, with new minions by his side. Nott and Zabini covered both sides of him, Crabbe and Goyle followed just way behind, and Pansy was at his side, hugging him from one side and beaming. Marcus Flint had left Hogwarts before he could be expulsed, Draco could only guess what Snape had said to him and smirked to himself everytime he got an image of Flint's horrified expression. Just that was enough.

Everyone knew about the incident where specifically, Draco Malfoy had lost his virginity to a sixth year brute and they all turned to stare when he entered, their eyes glued to the new minions who had been known to have betrayed him. Slytherins may have a rule to use whatever known tool for their benefit, but the rest of the Houses were sympathetic and later, the Slytherin House as a general, had been rooting for Draco too. Yes, Draco had blackmailed a few blokes from the top to get what he wanted, but it was a time worth spent after agonizing over love and its various let-downs. Draco had always been good at politics; to manipulate and use possible opportunities at his disposal so, it wasn't a surprise that he had gotten even better now that he had one lifetime experience.

It was fun, to mess with people's weakness and use it to his advantage. Draco thought before his eyes met Potter's from across the room and he froze where he stood.

There was always something compelling about Potter's straight stare; it went right through and ensnared his heart, clenched it, and let him die a thousand deaths inside before it released its grip when he looked away.

"Draco?" Pansy asked from his side, looking concerned. "What's wrong?"

And he missed those thousand deaths already.

Draco shook his head at Pansy and walked again, sitting at the seat reserved only for him and his minions.

"So? What's new?" He queried, though he knew already. He had missed the Halloween party and today was the day.

"At dinner-time, the Durmstrang and Beauxbaton students will show up." Pansy informed, nonetheless. "We're expected to welcome them when they do. I'm so excited! Wonder how they will come? What do you think, Queenie?"

Queenie joined in the conversation, smiling too and left the boys to themselves. Nott and Zabini looked awkwardly at one another before they stared at Draco expectantly.

Draco grinned obliquely, buttering up a toast with the butter knife. "It's a lovely day, isn't it?"

They gave him dull stares and he rolled his eyes at them. "Can you guys be anymore inept?" he asked, enjoying their misfortune very much. "Anyway, as your leader, what do you think I should order you?" when they glared at him in askance, he raised a brow. "What? I should ask you to kiss blokes?" He mock-gasped. "Oh, but I wouldn't do that. Not force you!" Queenie and Millicent snorted, glancing at them from the side.

Draco looked at them, smiling widely. He turned to Crabbe and Goyle. "What do you think I should do, Crabbe? Goyle?" They looked at him in bafflement, probably wondering if it was a test.

He shook his head at their utter pigheadedness and turned to Nott and Zabini again. "Well, how about you eat your breakfast, first?" His mouth curved down in obvious displeasure. "Do whatever you want. I don't care, but if you do anything unnecessary behind my back, I_ will_ find out and I_ will_ order you to do whatever I want."

They stared back without flinching and Draco smiled, satisfied at their obedience. He looked away and the conversation at the table carried on. He bit into his toast and took a sweeping glance around him. Potter was staring at Cho Chang again, Draco clenched his teeth despite the amusing thought that the girl would fall for the dead guy, instead of the Boy-Who-Lived. He snickered at the irony of it and took a look at Cedric Diggory. Looking at him, Draco wondered if he would live this time or would he die in the tournament like the last time?

Draco frowned, trying to comprehend but only getting more suspicious of the future. This wasn't right. It was all messed up, Draco didn't know the future anymore. He could only guess and he didn't like that.

He promised to himself to keep an eye open for danger from now on and murmured an: _"Eaveo._" before relaxing again as the whispers surrounding the Hall reached him.

-0-

Viktor Krum had always been a grumpy bloke but, Draco didn't have to like him to get in his favorable position. And by favorable position, Draco did not mean anything sexual or interesting. It was just politics. In getting on Krum's good side, people from Slytherin would start to take Draco seriously again. It was a clever plan and Draco registered it like the Politician he was made to be.

"So, how is your school like?" Draco asked, smiling and being as cheery as a lantern.

"Er, it is very cold." Krum informed, looking around the Great Hall. "Not like here."

Draco raised a brow. "Ah." he said. "Well, that must have sucked."

"Yes. It does." His accent was so weird that Draco just smiled at his serious replies.

"What do you think he's doing?" Weasley was saying from the Gryffindor's table. "Get away from him! Do you see, Harry? The git is taking away Krum for himself. I bet he's going to snog him any second."

"Ron, stop." Granger admonished. "Malfoy wouldn't do that. Have you forgotten? He's been raped."

Weasley shrugged. "Doesn't seem like rape. I think he was asking for it, don't you, mate?"

"Asking for it?" Granger scoffed. "Nobody asks to be raped!"

Potter made a hush motion. "Shh. Merlin, Hermione, do you want the whole table to hear you?"

"Well, they know full well what happened." Granger said, frustrated. "And yet, everyone seems to evade the hard truth of it. I bet Malfoy's been traumatised, but he's hiding it really well."

"What? How do you figure that? By his new minions? Or by the girlfriend he's got by his side all the time? All those people betrayed him and he took them back. I don't believe that he's hurt by this at all." Weasley seemed to be convinced about Draco's opinion of it all.

Draco found he was clenching his jaw tight and smiled at Krum, trying to look like he was listening as the grumpy bloke talked about Durmstrang and other stuff that Draco really couldn't care less about.

He took a pastry from the tray at the table and nibbled on it.

"Hey, Draco." Pansy called. Draco looked at her, trying to unwound the tenseness of his shoulders. "Derrick's asking for a match tonight."

He nodded understandably and turned to Krum. "Would you like to join us? We're playing a Quidditch game for fun."

Krum looked at him before he shook his head. "Headmaster wouldn't want me to be out on the first day."

"He really fancies you, doesn't he?" Draco mumbled to himself.

"What?" Krum asked, confused.

Draco shook his head, smirking. "Nothing at all."

He turned around and gave Derrick, the Chaser of the Slytherin Quidditch team, a wave of acceptance. Derrick nodded and turned back to his friends.

"Are you sure? You don't have to, you know. I mean-" Pansy was looking in the general direction of Draco's arse. Draco gave her a reproachful look and she smiled nervously. "Right, you can handle a game just for fun. No need to worry about strong, old Draco." Draco found her sarcastic tone displeasing and glared slightly.

She looked away, rolling her eyes.

Out of all the people, Pansy had been the one who had questioned Draco's welfare multiple times without giving up. Even now, she wasn't convinced he was alright and kept on hinting that his emotional stability was in danger after such a incident.

'You didn't cry.' she had said but Draco hadn't wanted to tell her that he cried all the time, inside and without anyone watching.

And it wasn't because of what Flint did either. It was because of her, Nott, and Zabini. Flint wasn't the only one who did it- they fucked him over with him. And it was their hits that hurt the most.

Draco had never gotten used to being betrayed. Yes, Crabbe and Goyle had started to doubt him, even took it to a great level, but then, Draco knew circumstances asked for it. Draco still believed in Crabbe- the pig-head may be slow and stupid, but he had a big heart. And Pansy's betrayal- again, circumstances called for it. Draco believed in her too.

But sometimes, he couldn't find it within himself to still forgive them. He couldn't forgive Pansy, that was for sure. Not because of what she did, but what she had done in the other dimension. Draco couldn't like her anymore, couldn't see her as the same Pansy anymore. The Pansy whose lap was the most comfortable, the Pansy who cared for him, the Pansy under him as he made love to her, and the Pansy who he could never hate.

Draco was reminiscing the good times when he was jolted out of it by someone yanking at his robes.

"Ow." He yelped, turning around and watched as he took in the Weasley Twins standing there with double grins on their faces. "Weasleys." he greeted, disturbed beyond belief at their expressions and afraid of what these hooligans were up to.

"Malfoy." they greeted back in unision. Draco wanted to run away, this time for an entirely different reason.

"Er." Draco gave them looks, extremely disconcerted at their enthusiasm.

"Are you alright, Malfoy?" one of them asked.

Draco blinked, grimacing. "No." he answered honestly. _At least, I don't think I'm going to be with you two grinning like that. _He thought.

"Oh." the other said, frowning. He looked at his twin. "What do we do, George? He seems to be okay."

The twin named George grinned. "Why, we do it anyway." he answered, looking cheesy and sarcastic.

Draco shook his head, out of fear. "No. No." they turned to give him wicked looks, "Whatever you're planning, go away."

"Don't worry-" Fred sat at Draco's one side and the other twin sat at his other side, both holding onto Draco's shoulder.

"-We won't hurt you." George completed.

"No, I think-" Draco made a face. "I think I'm going to be sick so, if you could please..."

"Oh, we have the remedy for that." Fred said, laughing, from the right.

Draco's lips thinned. "No, you don't."

"But we do." George, from the left, insisted. They were leaning in on Draco's either cheek, wearing shit-eating grins on their faces.

"No. You don't." Draco croaked out, feeling something on the back of his throat and before any one of them could make a retort, he turned around and bend on the aisle between the Slytherin table and the Gryffindor table and puked his guts out.

"Wow." The twins said. "Wicked."

Draco retched, holding his throat and massaging it as he lifted his head. "Oh, fuck it." he murmured under his breath, voice hoarse and unclear even to himself.

"Mr. Malfoy, do you need to visit the infirmary?" McGonnagall asked from somewhere. Draco stood up, holding his mouth and rushed past her, out of the Great Hall.

-0-

"It seems you have been going through stress lately." Pomfrey commented after checking up on him. Draco gulped, still feeling the strained stretch of his throat after puking like hell on earth.

"I don't really think so." He denied, rubbing at his mouth. Pomfrey ignored what he said.

"You need to talk to someone, sweets." she advised.

"I don't."

"Do you have anyone specific in mind? Maybe, a relative? A friend?"

"All my friends betrayed me." He said with a smile.

She gave him a no-nonsense look and spoke: "Relatives?"

"You mean those posh, rich people whose only care in the world is politics and earning a good standing in the Ministry? No, not really."

"I'm talking about your parents."

"Didn't you see?" Draco asked, a heavy lump in his throat. "We talked when my father came. A lot."

She stared at him, obviously dissatisfied. "Your mother, then."

"My mother," He sighed. "She's not here."

"Well, you can owl her then." she said, moving to take out a pink vial from the cabinets. She handed it to Draco. "For your throat."

"Thanks." Draco mumbled, drinking it all in one go. He gave her the empty vial and felt at his neck, the strain was gradually dispersing from the inside.

"So, what will you do after getting out?" Pomfrey questioned, hands at her hips.

"Owl mother." Draco answered, obedient.

"And I will know if you don't. Your mother has been sending me mails about your health. She says you haven't been replying. She might as well think you're dead if you're so unresponsive." Draco stopped mid-way through wearing his robes, and turned to her.

"Dead?" Draco asked, the lump widening in his throat and no vial could fix that, he knew. He gulped. _They're dead. _"Why can't I talk to you?"

Pomfrey gave him a considering look. "First, maybe you should mail your mother and then, you could talk to me if you want."

Draco looked down at the ground, "No." he shook his head. "I'll mail mum." his whole body seized at the idea of it and he walked off, out of the infirmary without a farewell.

-0-

_"Mr. Malfoy_." Dumbledore stood at his office, with that twinkle in his eyes. _"Sit down, please."_

Draco did, crossing his arms and staring sulkily at the artifacts on the old wizard's table.

_"Now,_" Dumbledore said, sitting down on the seat behind his desk. "_How is everything? Are you feeling better?"_

_"Sure. No problem._" Draco said, gritting his teeth. Dumbledore stared at him, he looked up to stare back evenly. "I can't do this anymore."

_"What?" _

"Can't-"

_"But you have to. To save Mr. Potter."_

_"I can't. Obliviate me._ I can't do this anymore._"_

_"But you can. You have to believe in yourself."_

"I do! Believe me, I do! But I can't mail mother. I can't tell her I'm fine and everything is okay when I know it's not. I can't live under these walls. I_ feel trapped. I want to find out what Voldemort's planning. I want to know. I can't do this here._"

_"You've gone through traumatising events, I understand. It's understandable that you're having change of mind-set but-"_

_"_I could give you all my memories. Y_ou can watch them and find out all the future secrets from those_. You don't need me, do you?"

_"I have only two years to live or maybe, less. I'm old while, you are young. You can do what nobody can do, you can succeed if you put your mind to it."_

The scenario changed and Alice was in front of him._ "You're such a coward, Draco. So selfish. You can't handle a simple thing like owling your mother. Why can't you? What's wrong with a lie when you've been lying all this time?"_

"I can't!"

_"Why not?"_

"Because!"

_"Because what?"_

"Because-" Draco sobbed, tears in his eyes. "Because I love her!"

_"Then, you will lie for her."_

"I can't." He took his head in his hands. "I've lied enough times. I'm tired."

_"You can't be tired. It's not even two months yet and you're giving up? What about Potter? Who will save him if Voldemort's dogs start to enter Hogwarts and steal his blood in the middle of the night? You know they could do it. You know it. I know it."_

"No." Draco chanted to himself. _No. No. No. No._

_"Draco, nothing will go away with your crying."_

"I can't!" He cried, knowing he would still do what he had to, because Alice was right. He had to see to it till the end. "I will but right now, I can't."

-0-

Moaning Myrtle watched as the boy named Draco Malfoy broke down in front of her, kneeling on the Bathroom floor, with his head in his hands and crying, sobbing. He was talking to himself too. Myrtle couldn't do anything but watched as the boy struggled with himself. A while later, when he was just at the edge of despair, Myrtle took pity on him and floated to his side.

"What can't you do, Draco?" she asked, curious and trying to sound comforting. She couldn't touch the boy so, she let her translucent hand stray in mid-air, behind his back as he sobbed.

"I will but, right now, I can't." he was still talking to himself. Myrtle frowned.

"You poor boy." She said, feeling useless as the boy's body convulsed. "Should I call someone?"

The boy didn't talk, kept on sobbing helplessly. She looked at his face, waiting.

"Do you need someone?" she asked again. "Moaning Myrtle can call someone if you want it. I can travel through walls and ceilings so, I can be fast." she assured, smiling slightly.

Draco didn't answer. She frowned and then, feeling a bit more curious, she asked: "Who do love, Draco?"

"Wha-" Draco seemed to come to himself a bit, looking up and staring at Myrtle with unfocused eyes. "Who?"

"Yes, who do you love?" she found she was excited to know who it was, despite her helpful disposition.

The boy looked at her with wide, wet eyes and they turned achingly sad as he thought about it. He looked down and mumbled. Myrtle leaned down with him, trying to hear.

"Who?" she asked for him to repeat.

"Potter."

Myrtle blinked and looked at Draco to find he was serious.

"Harry Potter?" she asked.

He nodded, and then ran off to the sink to puke again.

Myrtle watched him for a wondrous moment before she left the bathroom to visit the Gryffindor.


	11. Part I, chapter eleven: Such Lies

**Title**: For the First time

**Author**: Mabu  
**Rating:** NC-17  
**Genre:** Romance, Angst, Humor, Adult, Violence.**  
****Disclaimer**: Property of JK Rowling. Quotes from the book may be repeated in here since time is turning.

* * *

**Chapter eleven: **

**Such Lies**

* * *

Meanwhile, Harry Potter was having a game of Exploding Snaps with his best friend, Ron Weasley. He was grinning and joking around when Myrtle entered the Gryffindor common room with a sulky look.

Noticing her, they goggled. Everyone knew Moaning Myrtle never went out of the Girls' Bathroom on the second floor and the students in the common room stared at her in amazement as she floated towards Harry and his friend.

She tilted her head to the side, "What to do?" she melodramatically asked herself or maybe, the room. Who knew? "I feel bad for leaving him there, but I can't help him. Myrtle doesn't have hands." she looked at her hands, mopish. "If only." she mused.

They watched her as she turned her head toward Harry. "You never came to visit me, Harry. You promised."

"Er," Harry felt uncomfortable in her presence. "Yes. About that."

"You lied." Myrtle said, looking sad.

"Myrtle," Hermione said, putting away her thick book in a pile at the couch and stood up. "What are you doing here?"

Myrtle looked at the trio for a moment, hesitating before she informed: "He's crying."

"Who's crying?" Hermione asked.

"That boy." Myrtle replied vaguely.

"Who? A first-year? A second-year? Who?" Ron demanded, looking a bit peeved that he had to stop the game when he was about to win.

Myrtle whipped her head over to him and glared, looking offended. "You think a boy in sixth year or seventh year can't cry? Just a twelve year old can cry, can he? Well, you are very rude to assume that!"

Hermione had never seen Myrtle this angry, except the time Ginny threw Tom Riddle's diary at her. Then, she had been furious and had cried for a while. There was something about her expression now though, that made Hermione a bit more serious about what she was saying.

"Blimey!" Ron exclaimed before surrendering defeat. "Fine, it can't just be a twelve-year old boy. So, which year is he? Seventh? Sixth? Fifth?" Ron seemed to be looking more interested as he guessed the years.

Hermione rolled her eyes at his antics, and lightly pushed at Ron's shoulder.

Ron 'Ow'd' and stared at her. She ignored him and faced Myrtle. "Forget what year. Who is he?" she was a bit concerned about whoever the boy was. Taking refuge in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom to cry- someone must be terribly miserable to take such an extreme measure.

Myrtle looked down at the ground, ignoring Hermione's query and explained: "He's a bit barmy, at the moment. He keeps talking to himself and- and-" she stopped, looking at them. "He needs help."

Hermione nodded and put all the books at the couch in her bag, zipping it up before she moved to walk out of the common room.

"You're not going to see him, are you?" Ron asked, looking worried in his own way.

Hermione turned to him, firmly determined. "I'll only be checking."

His eyes widened while Harry moved to stop her. "Wait." Ron was sputtering beside him as Harry tried to feed some sense into her. "It's nearly night already."

"And?" she asked, raising her brows in question.

"And if he's a bloke, and from what Myrtle said, I suspect he's older than you- you won't want to go there." he reasoned.

"Yeah, us blokes don't appreciate someone spying on us while we cry." Ron added.

"So?" She asked stubbornly, raising a brow.

The two boys exchanged glances and turned to her with a look that implied that they wouldn't let her go unless she went with them by her side. She put her hands up in exasperation.

"Fine. Harry, get your map out." she demanded, crossing her arms and looking on expectantly.

Harry gave her a confused look before he realized what she was asking for and took out the golden parchment from his pockets.

"You keep that with you all the time?" Ron asked, watching as Harry unfolded it. Harry glanced around, checking if there was anyone looking and murmured softly the password: "I swear I am up to no good."

The black parchment inked in the antique map of their school and the three of them looked at it together, eyes automatically fixating on the bathroom where Myrtle lived. The trio looked up to eye each other; there was nobody in there.

"Myrtle," Hermione spoke loud enough for the ghost to hear. Moaning Myrtle sprinted towards her attentively. "Are you sure there's someone there?"

Myrtle knitted her brows. "He was there just a while ago."

Hermione bend over, surveying the map again but this time, tracked the outside of bathroom. There were faint footsteps near and she tracked it with her eyes, only to come up with the name: Draco Malfoy. She gazed at the dot and looked away soon after, seems Harry or Ron hadn't noticed the dot and she folded the map, handing it to Harry who took it and put it in his pocket.

"Well, maybe, you should check again." She advised Myrtle dismissively. The female ghost looked affronted and glared at her.

"Whatever! You don't want to help, than I will. I'll help him by myself." she humphed and floated off into a wall across from them, disappearing without a trace.

They stared after her and Ron grimaced. "She always was creepy and now, she's having hallucinations. Merlin." he sighed.

Hermione gave him an annoyed look and walked away to the girls' dormitory with a absent-minded farewell to her friends. Entering her dorm, she settled on her bed and put her bag beside her bed. Lavendar and Parvati were giggling away on the other side, she tried to ignore them just like she always tried to do. It was very easy to do, actually, once she became so immersed in reading a book that their voices just became a buzz in the background; brimming and pacifying. But this time, some of their chatter perked up her interest. They had said the word: "Malfoy." and she looked up, staring at them as Parvati spoke:

"Even while he was puking, I found him endearing, in a sort of, 'I don't care whatever you do, but you are hot' way."

Lavendar nodded in accession. "People have been saying that he's using some illegal notice-me potions."

"Could it be true?" Parvati asked, looking curious while Hermione blinked in puzzlement. She had never heard of these 'notice-me' potions. Did such a thing even exist?

"Well," Lavendar hesitated, glancing sideways at Hermione and pausing as she noticed her staring. Hermione quickly looked away, taking out her notes for History of Magic while she listened to them with half-ear. "I heard Professor Snape has tested Malfoy for illegal potions or any unnecessary charm, but it's just not there."

"It could be a rumor." but even Parvati sounded doubtful about that. "Well, either way, he's hot and pretty. I mean, he has that pointy thing going on for him and it's not exactly like he's a stud, but he moves like a- a sex-god!" Hermione's eyes widened as she heard that and the two girls started giggling again. Mortified for them and herself, she tuned them right after. Stupid gossiping girls. Hermione didn't have time for their exchange of rumors, she wasn't the least bit interested in that kind of thing.

But the things revolving around Malfoy seemed to make a lot less sense than she remembered. Nowadays, it seemed like everything was coming back to him and though, he wasn't taunting them or trying to torture their everyday life with his sarcasm or cryptic tone, he was luring more attention than she cared to admit. Even Gryffindor girls, who got disgusted by the slimy git before, were cooing over him like fan-girls. Like- like Malfoy was some sort of Celebrity and maybe, that's what he had wanted. That's why he snogged boys in the Hall in front of public and changed his hairstyle which even Hermione couldn't deny was better than his gelled-back hair. They were loose now, looking soft and silky as he sometimes, twirled them around his finger and curled them until the bundle released and he started the process all over again.

It was hypnotizing, watching him. Not just for girls, even boys. She had noticed Seamus, Dean, and Harry looking at Malfoy's direction when he did those highly provocative, yet innocent actions. Like, for instance, whenever he was thinking about something, he put his thumb on top of his bottom lip; giving him this eloquent image that he probably wasn't in real life, but he was a wonder to be held for eyes searching for beauty.

Hermione wasn't discriminatory over people by their physical attractiveness like her roommates- as a matter of fact, she hated if someone judged another by their looks alone- but she noticed. She also, was a bit relieved to see that Malfoy's actions weren't noticed by Ron, who was genuinely disturbed if he ever witnessed Malfoy's attention-seeking tactics (which was, snogging a bloke).

Just when she had thought she had adjusted to the daily shocks that Malfoy bestowed upon them in his flawlessly mischievous manner, he was assaulted by Marcus Flint, a Slythern from the upper year. The morning after it happened, Hermione woke up to an uproar and was soon aware of the matter without even contacting Harry and Ron. When she had asked them how all of them knew about the assault, Harry told her that they hadn't told anyone. But then, Ron had blurted out that maybe, he had said something to Seamus that night after returning from carrying Malfoy to the infirmary.

Hermione, sympathetic of Malfoy's situation, wanted to visit the Slytherin, but never got the time since she had found out about where the House-Elves of Hogwarts resided. Fred and George slipped it to her that they took food from the House-Elves when they were hungry and needed midnight snacks, she had smiled and asked how to get there, trying to look genuinely curious and not sternly disapproving of them. They told her and she had visited the kitchen of Hogwarts, meeting Dobby- the House-Elf who tried to help Harry during the second year and Winky; the House-Elf who had been accused of summoning the Dark Mark. So, among all the chaos of Winky crying her eyes out and Dobby being Dobby; Hermione had been rather busy.

But after seeing the dot on The Maraudar's Map, Hermione couldn't leave Malfoy's case alone anymore. She was worried- a bit, about Malfoy's ever-altering behavior during the two months and was determined to find out what his problem really was.

-0-

Malfoy visited the library often nowadays and one of those days, Hermione caught sight of him. He was sitting on a bench, around the corner, looking down on a piece of parchment with a sulky look, and twirling over a quill in his hands. She watched him as he sat there for a while, just looking at the blank parchment before he woke up from his daze and bend, his hand moving as he wrote. She couldn't see what he did write, and whatever he did, it wasn't much because he lifted his head just a second later.

Unable to stop herself from spying, she carefully walked closer to him, keeping her head turned to the shelves before her, and glancing sideways at the Slytherin. Malfoy was quiet, twirling the quill in his fingers again before he rubbed at the crease on his forehead in frustration.

Then, he started grumbling to himself, the sharp nip of his quill just barely above the parchment as he twitched, fidgeted, and shifted in discomfort. Hermione was obviously intrigued, taking another step closer as she tilted her head, trying to read what he wrote before and in her distraction, forgot to step carefully and her foot hit the ground in a loud enough noise.

Malfoy's thin shoulders tensed and he turned slowly to regard her, eying her up and down before he looked away. "If you have to spy, Granger." he spoke after a silent amount of time where she stared at him, frozen in her tracks. "Don't be so bad at it. Ever heard of magic?" she blinked, stepping forward until she was right beside him and could see the parchment clearly. There, right on top were the only words he had written:

_Dear mother._

She stared. She knew she was staring but couldn't help it. Then, she peeked at Malfoy who was glowering at the parchment as if it could burn into a crisp if he did it long enough.

"I'm sorry I'm not a sneaky snake like you, Malfoy." she returned to Malfoy's wry remarks.

"Merlin." Malfoy was shaking his head, a smirk on his lips as he looked up at her. "You Gryffindors are all the same; as subtle as a Bludger." She rolled her eyes. He chuckled. "I mean, there Potter is with his wonderful Invisibility Cloak and that's what he always uses to spy on someone." Her head jerked in his direction, taken-aback. "Let me tell you, Granger, it doesn't work."

She frowned at him. "And I suppose you're going to give me tips about how to spy on people, right?"

Malfoy seemed t_o actually_ think about it seriously before he nodded at her. "I could." She gave him a disbelieving look and he shrugged. "Don't worry, I'm not being nice to you. It's called self-indulgence. Indulge me, Granger. Since your tactics are growing boring nowadays, I'll tell you a spell I use all the time so I wouldn't be caught off-guard and also, be able to spy on other people's conversation without them even having a budge about it."

"How?" She asked warily, trying not to believe him, but interested to know.

"It's simple, really." he moved his hands together, looking more like an adult than a student for one moment as she looked down at him and blinked. "It's a spell called 'Eaveo', a sound enhancing charm that lets you listen in on long distance conversations from forty feets away." He smiled, looking devilish as realisation dawned on her like fifty stones falling on her head simultaneously. "It helps me find out whose planning against me and other important stuff that could be used as blackmail material, later."

She felt a spike of nervousness as she eyed him. She thought she knew the Draco Malfoy from the three years she had seen him at this school. She had seen him cower away in fear, as a coward from even a single harmful creature, and cry like a baby when hit for his own recklessness. He was a whiner, complaint about simple stuff, and didn't care for anybody but himself. Torturing Harry, Ron and her, was for his own amusement and used his father's influence daily for selfish reasons.

But the Draco Malfoy sitting under her line of vision was not who she thought she knew. This Malfoy wasn't arrogant; he was confident. This Malfoy wasn't a coward; he was adventurous. This Malfoy wasn't using his father's influence for winning over everybody; he was using his body as a tool. The only thing he had similar with his old self was that he still possessed that wicked attitude, that mocking corrosiveness, those same insults, and those superior, condescending looks like he thought they were the dirt under his shoe.

And this sharp, crude intelligence- that knowing look; as if he knew all their secrets. _Did he hear about Sirius too? Oh god, Harry's not going to like this._

"Don't think too much, I won't blackmail you or Potter." Malfoy assured smugly before he frowned. "Maybe Weasel, but-"

"What's wrong with you?" She asked, interrupting him and leaving him staring at her angry face.

"What's wrong with me, Granger?" He returned her question back at her, his eyes dull and almost wistful. "What do you think is wrong with me?"

Hermione couldn't look at him anymore, the profile of this boy was heartbreakingly sad and so, she turned away. "How should I know? Perhaps, you should ask that question to yourself, Malfoy." she gestured with her hands to the blank parchment in front of him.

He stared at the parchment, not looking back as she walked away.

When she turned the corner, she thought she caught a glimpse of him picking up the quill and begin to write. She hoped he would. Whatever it was about, it was obviously making him frustrated and nobody needed a school mascot who couldn't take care of himself.

-0-

When she informed Harry and Ron of her conversation with Malfoy, their reactions were instantaneous.

"That arsehole- how dare he!" Ron said with a scowl.

Harry's eyes were wild and vicious. "The prat."

"We saved his arse! The least he could do was not spy on us." Ron went on to say.

"Well, he did assure me that he wasn't going to use it against us." Hermione added reluctuntly, not liking the adversary fuming off the red-head.

"But he knows, Hermione! He knows about Sirius, about my scar hurting, and probably everything." Harry's face was stricken with fear, worry, and anger.

"I'm not saying he was right to do that." Hermione informed, frowning. "He tore into our privacy, probably everyone's and we didn't even know. It was rude of him."

"Rude?" Ron snorted. "The guy is fucking crazy. Oh, we'll indulge him. We'll challenge him since he finds us so boring. The stupid, arrogant little piece of shit."

Hermione winced. "Well, maybe we shouldn't- we shouldn't pick a fight with him right now."

"Why not?" they looked at her, curious. She grimaced.

"You know why not." she said, not wanting to say. They stared, confused still. She sighed, exasperated. "Oh, for god's sake, it's because of his popularity, okay? He's famous and he's got everyone sympathizing for him. They would probably like it that Malfoy might be spying on their conversations when mostly, I can tell he's been listening to us."

"We've never been afraid of anything. Why should we care if everyone starts hating us?" Ron asked rhetorically.

"Because-"

"Hermione's right, Ron." Harry interrupted her, looking understanding. "It probably would be better if we didn't get into trouble with the people around us. I know even the Gryffindors will be against us with this." Of course, Harry had noticed the gossips going on about Malfoy's 'hotness'. Hermione refrained from commenting.

"So, what?" Ron sputtered. "Just because he's been raped, he's become some kind of goody-shoe? I know that's shite!"

"That's not it." Hermione protested. "Everyone knows he's a slimy git, but what happened to him... they might think that maybe, after that, his paranoia was reasonable. I would probably find it reasonable too, except I know he's been using that spell from, probably, the beginning of term."

"What paranoia?" Ron asked. They stared at him like he was an idiot. He glanced at them. "What?"

"Honestly." Hermione looked away, too tired all of a sudden.

"He's been betrayed by his own 'friends', and fucked by a fellow House-mate. Of course, he will be paranoid." Harry helped explain.

Ron thought about it and said, "Oh." he was starting to look sympathetic when Hermione added, just for his sake:

"But that's obviously not it because he's been using the spell before he was raped."

_"Oh_."

"How do you know?" Harry asked.

"He knew about your scar hurting." she pointed out logically.

Harry looked thoughtful, nodding absentmindedly as his eyes glazed over.

"So, what did you find about the blood sacrifice thing?" Ron asked. Their last confrontation with Malfoy had left them confused, but somehow, they couldn't dismiss the concept he had touched in a most mysterious way.

Hermione looked up, and thought about it. "There's a lot of interesting information about blood and it's involvement in the Magical world. Mostly, it's illegal. Sometimes, people use it for casting seals and barriers that only a family member's blood can open. Even that is frowned upon, but since it's done between Pureblood families, the matter is never disclosed enough for the Ministry to give some serious orders." she worried her lip, thinking about how a lot of Purebloods got away with that. Malfoy's father would probably be one of those people. "And then, it's used for cloning- which is just too disturbing for me to talk about."

"What? What's that about?" Ron asked curiously. She gave him a glare, not wanting to talk about the horror of cloning.

"It's a rotten method in making yourself look like someone else. It's similar to polyjuice potion but more barbaric, and never-ending. You will remain with the face you clone for the rest of your life. It can be a curse or a gift, depends on the perspective of the person." she informed quickly.

"Why would anyone want to do that, as a gift?" Ron couldn't seem to stop from questioning, scrunching his face.

"It was used by old ladies wanting to be young again. There are grotesque stories about them mutilating their daughters to get the same face as them. It's very- disturbing." she completed. The two boys gaped at her. She ignored them. "There was another function I could not get out of my head once I read it. A myth that might as well not be true, but-" she hesitated.

"What is it?" Harry urged her on.

"It's about resurrection."

"Resurrection?"

Hermione nodded. "Coming back from the dead." she explained. "Using another person's blood who has a connection with the dead person may be a main ingredient to the potion of resurrection. Nobody really knows if it's true since they haven't tried before and it's ancient as far as we know, but after Harry's scar hurting like that, I thought-"

"That Voldemort would come back." Ron flinched, while Harry looked stern and tense. "You don't think Malfoy was implying that, do you?"

Hermione gulped. "I hope not."

"But it can be true?"

Hermione felt guilty for the face Harry was making and shook her head. "Oh, Harry, I don't know. It's just- things have been happening lately that make me think that something bad is about to happen and with a Death Eater infiltrating Hogwarts, I got suspicious and Malfoy seems to know things."

Harry scoffed. "The fucking git didn't even know what his friends were planning so he could save himself from getting his arse battered and bruised, what makes you think this is true?" He looked very defensive as he said this.

"But your scar-"

"My scar's not hurting that much. Merlin, you and Sirius, both are going crazy over this when honestly, I feel fine. It was only one time. It was nothing." it didn't seem like nothing, Hermione thought as she eyed his angry posture, but didn't say anything in return. Harry could blow steam all he wanted, but he knew that what Hermione was talking about was plausible. And he dreaded that. Hermione could tell and she dreaded it too. They looked at each other for a moment of silence before he sat down in a slump, sighing.

"Mate, you alright?" Ron asked, sitting beside him, looking concerned.

Hermione sat down opposite to them, gathering her hands between her thighs as she stared at the dejected form of her friend. "I'm only saying it's possible."

Harry nodded tiredly, not looking up.

"We should talk to Dumbledore about it." Ron interjected with the comment. "Maybe, it could help with things." he gestured at the tenseness between them.

"Right." Harry looked up, then. "Yeah, we should."

Hermione's lips thinned as she looked down at her hands. "Maybe, first thing tomorrow?"

They nodded in agreement and that was it.


	12. Part I, chapter twelve: Scars will heal

**Title**: For the First time

**Author**: Mabu  
**Rating:** NC-17  
**Genre:** Romance, Angst, Humor, Adult, Violence.**  
****Disclaimer**: Property of JK Rowling. Quotes from the book may be repeated in here since time is turning.  
**Author's note: **Do I make Draco's situation rather sad? I've seen far worse, actually and hey, he's making progress. Two confrontations with the trio! That's got to be something.

* * *

**Chapter twelve: Scars will heal**

"Who is the betrayer?  
Who's the killer in the crowd?  
The one who creeps in corridors  
And doesn't make a sound."

_Heavy in your arm_s by** Florence + The machine.**

* * *

Draco always thought he was a bit on the creative side. He admired beauty and the artful variety of it. It wasn't just the abstract (his father had taught him that those were the most beautiful and Draco had always been somewhat influenced by his teachings), it was also the literal and simple. Draco wouldn't say he had a particular passion for it, but he thought it must have been his creative side that made him so averse and sensitive to violence, death, and cruel deeds.

That was why he wasn't made for war, never had been. When he was a child, just the slight scrape in the knee made him feel like crying, but perhaps, every kid did that. Draco wouldn't know, he never asked, because that would be showing weakness and nobody admitted their weakness in Slytherin. Not in the open and Draco always did everything publicly.

Maybe, it was his fault that his friends always ended up doubting him. Maybe, he wasn't a good enough friend.

He remembered the day he was going to set off to Hogwarts, at the beginning of the sixth year with a mission that, frankly, terrified the wits out of him. And mother was there, seeing him off from the manor; looking so deeply concerned when he had been expecting her to be proud of him. But she kept on looking lonely and sad and Draco missed his father, because he would have been proud.

And that was the misguided, foolish thought that was the example of what Draco had been like. His father would have been proud? No, he would have been skeptical, doubting Draco's ability like all of his companion Death Eaters.

And his mother, she knew Draco's nature to whine and complain; to breakdown for the smallest thing. He never did that in front of father. If he ever did, Lucius made it sure there would be no repeat.

While his father saw an asset to the Malfoy state, his mother saw a spoiled kid who would never be ready to face the violence of this world, and was prepared to keep him safe from it, but circumstances demanded he take responsibility. And he did; he took on the weight of his family's problems on his shoulder with his father skulking in Azkaban, and set foot in Hogwarts with that sense of deep responsibility. He knew once his father was out of Azkaban (and he would. Dark Lord had assured that he would) that this sense of burden would be taken off his shoulder and that was the only relief that kept him from completely panicking.

But once the year was over, when Dumbledore was dead, and he met his father; things had changed. Draco could not believe his father anymore and that was an ongoing process, something that was already happening during his sixth year in Hogwarts, but once he faced the man his father had become, he was met with a confirmation: he couldn't hand over the duty he had held with such care to a man who had chosen this fate for Draco, his mother, and the Malfoy name. It had been the first time that he had been disappointed in his father.

Lucius took his duty as the Head of the Malfoy family again, but one thing Draco didn't hand over to him was his future. He had made a mistake; in a childish spite against Potter for hexing him off with Sectumsempra, Draco had opened the gates of Hogwarts to dangerous Death Eaters who destroyed a place he hadn't known had been his home all this time. But regret did not help, nor did the reflection because then, he was a traitor to the Light side.

Those were the times Draco wanted to change so badly. So badly that Alice, his mysterious drink partner, had noticed and sent him here. _Maybe, it's a good thing. _Draco thought. _The unattainable is attainable again _

He looked over the view from the Astronomy Tower, the castle of Hogwarts looking as serenely peaceful and magical as ever. _And yet, what am I doing now? I'm not chasing it with all I've got. No, I'm waiting._

Draco jolted out of his somber thoughts when he heard a giggle. Jerking his head to the side, he looked around for where the voice came from and found it when he saw a boy and a girl from Hufflepuff making out in the corner. Their activity was obscured by the shadows, but Draco could see the outline and jumped off the ledge he was sitting on. Noticing him as he passed them by without another look behind, the girl gasped.

"It's him!"

Before there could be more said about him, he was out of the place and walking down the marble staircase.

"I'm telling you, she had nothing to do with it." a boy's voice was coming from somewhere.

There was another couple walking up to the Astronomy Tower, but their atmosphere was hardly amorous.

"Yeah, and that's why I found you leaning over her by the fireplace." the girl retorted angrily, stomping up.

"It was the project, I swear!" the boy tried to explain unsuccesfully.

The girl stopped from stomping just as they were passing by Draco and turned to glance at the blond.

"Malfoy," the girl said, looking like she just had an idea. "Fancy seeing you here." she looked up at the direction of the Astronomy Tower and gave him a wide-eyed look as he stopped walking and turned to her. "Are you with someone?"

Draco wanted to ignore her but her question brought a lurch of something in his belly. "No."

"Oh." she slowly smiled, her boyfriend was starting to look nervous. "Well, that's nice. Tell me, are you- you know, committed to someone at the moment?" she was stepping toward Draco with clear intentions and he really was not in the mood.

"No." he answered, straight-faced.

Her smile got wider as she positively skipped to him. "Are you sure you're...gay?" she asked, slowly trailing fingers by his chest.

"Betsy!" Her boyfriend called her.

Betsy gave a glare to her boyfriend, and turned to Draco with a flirtatious smile.

"Does it look like I'm anything but that?" Draco questioned rhetorically, impatient as he put his hands in the pocket of his pants and hunched.

She looked stung, taking away her hand. "I was just joking. You know, teaching my boyfriend a lesson. I'm not even interested in you." she laughed nervously, backing away. Draco turned his head to look away when he noticed something peculiar. A bug- it looked like a beetle was crawling on a wall, its antennas perked up and profile so familiar.

"Just so you know," Draco called to the girl who was already turning away. He eyed Rita Skeeter's Animagus with intent. "I can kiss any gender, fuck any girl or boy, but there's only one person in my heart." this time, he looked up to regard both of them as their eyes widened in surprise. "And I'm in love with him despite any circumstances or preferences." he gave a secretive smile before turning away and rushing off the stairs, walking to the dungeon.

-0-

"Potter and his friends are aware." Professor Snape informed after Draco sat down before him, in his office.

Draco paused, noticing Snape's skeptic stare and tilted his head. "And what are they aware of?" he asked carefully, not knowing what to expect when Snape was giving him that look.

Snape narrowed his eyes. "That the Dark Lord will return, and his servants have found a way to resurrect him."

Draco grinned ruefully, impressed that they found out before his grin faltered at Snape's glare. "Fine. I told them." he said with a shrug. "Very subtly." he added. Snape didn't look as impressed by it at all. "And would you look at that? They picked it up. Never knew they were that smart."

"And I didn't know that you would be such an imbecilic Neanderthal." Snape insulted, dry and cold. Draco winced. Snape continued to say: "Do you know how obnoxiously nosy that group is?"

"I'm guessing a lot." Draco replied meekly, flinching as Snape's eyes turned to grey slates of deathly torture.

"Do you always go around doing rash behavior without another thought of what the circumstances may be? Did you learn nothing from the Flint incident?" His mentor had a point, Draco just couldn't help it. He didn't think Snape would get it if he replied with that so he kept his mouth shut for the moment. "They went to the Headmaster for confirmation on Granger's brilliantly made thesis." he said this with heavy sarcasm. "The Headmaster had no choice but to tell them, 'to earn their trust' he said. Trust, my right foot."

Draco snorted, Snape gave him a dirty look and he gave an apologetic look.

Sniffing, Draco rubbed at his chin with his thumb. "Well, trust is...something." By that, he meant that he had a basic love-hate relationship with it. Just like he loved Potter one time and hated him the next. There was more hatred tonight, maybe because he was thinking about his past again.

"Yes." Snape said slowly, looking like he didn't believe Draco capable of critical thinking anymore. "That's not the point. I'm advising that you stay away from informing the world of the secrets you hold like they're something to give away without a thought. Time-travelers like you cannot be reckless about what they know from their current knowledge and the world they live in. It's very perilous. Do you really want to find out what Trelawny's 'worse' could be?"

Draco ducked his head, guilty because he had just revealed another one of those secrets to Rita Skeeter just a while ago.

They were silent before he spoke up one of the things he had been thinking of since he came here:

"Do you think... I'll ever go back to my time? I mean, in the time turner, you know whatever time you've turned to will have the past you, but when I came here, the Draco Malfoy that was in fourth year wasn't here anymore. Actually, I took over his body. Wasn't that it? Where is he now, then?"

"I'm guessing; inside you." Snape said unhelpfully, staring at Draco's body with doubtful eyes.

Draco looked at his chest and touched it. "It's weird. I don't feel like I posses someone inside me, but I know he's there. Is he dead? Did I make him die?"

"Perhaps, it's a matter of cognition, memory, and consciousness than, it is of a soul." Snape deduced, looking like he was thinking about it. "When you entered this body, perhaps both of your mind merged and became one and now, you are one soul. Not two."

Draco smirked cheekily. "So, does that mean I'm immortal if I've got two souls inside of me?" His mind was turning with the possibilities if that were it.

"Don't even joke about it." Snape warned. "Two souls cannot stay in one body, and soul transference is entirely an evil, and illegal concept."

Draco looked at the ceiling of Snape's office, sober again. "Brilliant."

"Will you do one thing for me before you go?" Snape requested in a formal manner.

Draco gave a sheepish grin. "I can't help snogging boys, Professor Snape. Nor can I help wanting Potter's thick-skulled brain to notice me."

"I won't ask those, then." Snape said, looking disappointed. "But, try not to start a quarrel with the guest in this school. And please, stay away from the champions. They're straight, from what I've seen and we'd like to keep them that way."

Draco laughed. "Brilliant. So, no snogging Krum or Diggory. Can I snog Potter, then?" he asked more to himself.

Snape gave him a painfully confused glance. He didn't know about Potter being a illegal champion in Draco's time, nor did Dumbledore. "Do whatever you want. Though, I suspect Potter wouldn't quite appreciate it as much as your other conquests."

Draco chortled, finding it funny despite the disheartening truth of it.

"Well, we'll see, won't we?"

-0-

It was the week before the First task that Draco's story was published in _Witch Weekly_. Skeeter worked damn fast when she had scoop on her hands, Draco could tell from experience. As he entered the Hall, there was a pregnant pause in everyone's chatter before Draco started to move again and they started to whisper amongst themselves, their voices becoming louder and clearer. He wouldn't even need an 'Eaveo' spell, their voices were already loud enough. From the gist of what he got, he knew the article had been published. Now, he only needed to see how the writer decided to write about it.

Sitting down at the Slytherin table, his friends taking seats near him, he snatched the magazine from a bloke at the table who gave it without any protest. Draco opened it and came up to the two-page article with his photo printed across on the glossy pages. His lips thinned as he read the Heading:

**LUCIUS MALFOY'S SON CAUSING UPROAR IN HOGWARTS. BETS BEING MADE ON HIS LOVE INTEREST. WHO IS THIS MYSTERIOUS LOVER?**

_You would think with the renewed Tri-Wizard Tournament that the excitement of that alone would be enough to keep students on the edge of their seats. Anticipation for all the roaring challenges and cheering for your own school's champion should keep all of us busy, right? Not for one Slytherin Prince, apparently. Resources tell us the story of how this young boy, fourteen-year old, and a leader among his peers has been a Bad Boy. And you know how we all love that. This Slytherin Prince is not an ordinary prince, he's a bloke that's all for both genders. Yes, you heard it from Witch Weekly first. Draco Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy's only son is bisexual. His words, taken from a reliable source, were this: "I can kiss any bloke or girl, fuck them if I want but-" and this is where we're all taken by surprise. "I'll only ever have one person in my heart." Does this mean that young Draco's in love? Who is that person? Oh, and is it a girl or a boy? We took special time to interview a few students on the matter. _

_"I'm sure it's a bloke. I mean, why else would he only snog blokes in the Great Hall? He obviously wants the bloke to notice." said one resource, a fifth year student at Hogwarts. "It's a Gryffindor, I keep telling telling them. They don't believe me." said another resource, a student who will prefer to remain anonymous. When we asked why he thinks so, he answered: "Well, truth be told, he keeps looking there sometimes with this intense look. I know others haven't noticed. Also, he has snogged Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws both, but never a Gryffindor. One has to wonder." One has to wonder indeed. From this young man, we found out that young Malfoy has been very naughty indeed. Exhibiting his complete aura of confident sexuality, he has turned all girls and boys in a jimmy. We wonder who he will take to the Yule Ball. It will certainly be a scandal, won't it? _

_Our resource, after lurking around for a while, tells us a more shocking secret that would make many question the reliability of it but rest assured, it has been confirmed. Apparently, after Mr. Malfoy started snogging unexpected students in the Great Hall of Hogwarts, one of his admirers took it too far. This admirer, Marcus Flint, has faced expulsion for his actions and will, hopefully, never return to cause Draco more grief. After the traumatising event, it is said that he has stopped snogging anyone, for that matter. We wish young Malfoy our best wishes and hope he will return to his scandalous escapades so we can write more about it. _

_Or please, give us more time taking his photos since, he does look absolutely delectable. In this picture, Mr. Malfoy was unaware of the cameras so this is very natural, without make-up or other magic to cover up his flaws. And despite all that, he still looks his most refreshing. Is this you__ng youth going to cause lots of heartache? Oh, I think he will._

_Tune in again to Witch Weekly for more information on this scandalous boy. _

"Well, I guess." Draco sighed, putting away the magazine and grimacing. "Father's going to kill me for sure."

Pansy took the magazine and read it, then she looked up at him and smiled. "So, you do like girls?"

"Maybe." Draco left it to ambiguousness to save him now that he was completely screwed.

She shook her head, putting away the magazine as others picked it up and read it. "Well, I won't be going to the Yule Ball with you. Zabini asked me."

"Already?" Draco asked, looking skeptically at Zabini who had outed him to magazine. The cunt was eating silently, not looking into Draco's eyes, probably feeling guilty. "Yeah, I guess it is a bit boring with me, isn't it?"

"No, you're just a bit too much fun." Pansy explained, patting his shoulders in mock-sympathy. He gave her a look, quirking a brow.

"So, Is it true?" Queenie asked after reading the magazine, looking interested. "You're into a Gryffindor bloke?"

"It better not be Weasley." growled Millicent, lo"Ioking very disturbed at the idea.

Draco laughed. "No, not Weasley. Never them." He hated them with every bone and flesh in his body. Not a single Weasley could ever be caught in the vicinity of his range of interest. All of them red-headed and freckly, egh.

There was a long silence as he came out of his thoughts and looked around, suddenly realizing he made a mistake.

Queenie leaned in to look at him. "So, it is a Gryffindor?"

"No." Draco denied abruptly, nervous. They kept staring at him and he could feel the tension winding down on his face. "No. Not a Gryffindor." _Think, Draco. Think. Think. Don't let them find out. _"I never said that."

"Yeah, but you never denied it." Pansy said, looking mildly skeptical. Draco glared at her and she shut up.

"I'm denying it now. Not a Gryffindor." He insisted.

They didn't look convinced. _OH, for fuck's sake!_

"Then, is it a Hufflepuff?" Millie asked cleverly. The bitch.

"No." Draco wrinkled his nose, couldn't help it; it was a reflex.

"A Ravenclaw, then?" Queenie joined, gaining on Draco's defense which was being trampled on very quickly and successfully. Knowing he had no other weapon to use, he tried to ensure some semblance of control:

"Who says it's a student here?" he couldn't add anything else to that, just hope the idea worked.

They were doubtful, of course but some of them could stray. Draco was counting on them to.

"Well, it could be a Durmstrang student." Queenie added reluctantly.

"If I may add." Zabini interrupted. Draco could feel anger spike in him as he glared at the bloke. "Draco's love fest had started before the Durmstrang or Beauxbatons came in. There's no chance of him being in love with them unless he has met one of them before and by the rate Draco's denying it, I don't believe it's anywhere near the Durmstrangs, is it?"

Draco knew he was trapped. Snape had told him specifically that he could not use Krum for this and he wouldn't, but he was the last card. He was someone Draco knew from before the term began. He could just bluff that he had met him on the night of the Quidditch World Cup game. But that was not possible. He couldn't risk it. _You can. _Can't. Can't.

"Fine." Draco said, knowing he had no other choice. "It isn't Durmstrang."

Zabini gave a satisfied nod and went back to his Breakfast. Draco couldn't help but admire his bravery. He probably should punish Zabini, mercy really didn't suit Draco, but he liked Zabini, he reminded Draco of himself. The coward; the overconfident.

Draco looked away.

"So, it's a Gryffindor, then?" Queenie asked, looking confused.

Millicent sighed exasperatedly. "Yes, Queenie. It is. Now, will we guys please concentrate on something better? Like, I don't know, life that doesn't revolve around Draco?"

Draco smirked. "Why, jealous, Millie?"

She gave a dirty look. "I hate you."

He grinned at her. She was kind-of adorable now that he could see her clearly. Except, she was a nasty cunt of a bitch. "I'd hate me too if I weren't me."

She scrunched her nose and humphed, looking away.

Pansy picked up a toast, and buttered it up. Queenie smiled at Draco. "I think there's something wrong with the people behind us." she gestured over Draco's shoulder. "They keep looking at us as if they can hear us, clearly. And they can't, can they?"

Draco blinked. Now, that he thought about it, the Hall seemed pretty quiet for a while now. Draco turned, half-dreading it, and looked over. Some people were already looking away as Draco stared, but they were casting a suspicious amount of glances at Draco and his friends.

"Eaveo." he murmured under his breath, and could hear the sharp intake of breath, the possible hitch in the silence and realized with widened eyes that half of the occupants of this room were using the same spell as him. "Oh, crud." he breathed slowly, aware of the many hawk eyes that were watching his every move, hearing his every breath. Feeling uncomfortable under such scrutiny, he moved his gaze to the Gryffindor table where Granger sat, looking smug and condescending. Ah, vengeance was a bitch, wasn't it?

He smiled at her, though it was less joyous than his other smiles. This one was more defeated, he could tell. She jerked her chin up. Draco's eyes met Potter's along the way who was staring hard at him.

"Everyone, you can drop the spell, now." she ordered. And they did. Half of the Hall that were listening in on the conversation between his Slytherin friends were Gryffindors and some of them were acquaintance and friends of the Golden Trio. _Clever._

"Impressive." he said under his breath, glancing to see if anyone was trying to hear what he was saying. "I'm impressed, Granger. Was this, perhaps, revenge?"

"Call it a lesson. I don't like revenge as a justifiable reason." Granger told him.

Draco chuckled. "You can't expect me to believe- well, Granger, if you think you're not capable of the term called 'revenge' than, you may be more naive than, I thought."

"Malfoy, we're listening to you. Don't you dare say anything out of line." Weasley warned, glaring at him from behind Granger.

"What am I? A monster? I'm not going to do anything to her, Weasley. As you can see, my words hurt you more than they could ever hurt her. She's a smart one, that one." He gave a cheeky smile at that.

Granger twitched. "We need to talk." she demanded.

"Don't we always?" he asked rhetorically, looking behind him as some of his friends started to stare. "Right. Follow me, then. I hope you're able to keep up." He stood up, nodding at his friends in farewell before he departed the Hall and walked through the corridors.

Granger and her companions weren't far behind, following closely. Draco dispersed the spell during it and walked into an obscured room at the corner, opening the door and coming upon a dusty surrounding. He sniffed, the smell here was ingeniously dirty but it could work for a place to talk.

He waited as they came in and stood distance apart from Draco. The room was very small, so they could hardly do that without falling and Draco wasn't leaning onto walls this time around. Too dirty.

They looked at each other for a moment and so, he decided, enough was enough and turned to stare openly at Potter who was giving him a searching gaze. Draco gave a crooked smirk and Potter's eyebrows raised in surprise.

"Alright." Granger interjected halfway through the silence. "Here's the thing: you'll be straight with us, we'll be straight with you. You obviously don't care what your father thinks, so we might as well assume that you're not on your father's side anymo-"

"For your information, I don't believe that for one second." Weasel rudely interrupted, glowering at Draco suspiciously and pointing unkindly. "You've always been a Daddy's boy, so your rebellion isn't convincing anyone."

"A slave to my father's teachings, you mean?" He asked, finding amusement in the idea. Weasel blinked stupidly. Draco had learnt to always keep a light-hearted disposition and then, maybe he won't feel so depressed after every conversation. He was trying the method, and so far, it was working out. Draco wasn't stupid though, he knew Potter's word would hurt despite what he might try to do to keep himself armored. "Yes, I was. Do you know why my father doesn't own the large portion of my life anymore?" they waited and he smirked more widely. "I'm not telling you."

"Hah. Very funny, Malfoy." Potter said dryly, his expression was all twisted into a confused puddle. Draco wondered what he was thinking about.

"Anyway, you obviously have been helping us since the term began." Granger continued, looking very disbelieving of what she was saying but she was saying it nonetheless; like maybe, stating out the facts may help assemble her mind better against Draco's complex one. "And Dumbledore says there are secrets about you that we can't even imagine knowing so, we might as well ignore your eccentric behavior and cut to the chase: We want your help."

Draco could not believe his ears so he just stared at them. "Sorry, Granger. Did you discuss this with your friends or did you decide this on your own? Because I could believe the latter but the first-"

"Harry's with me. Aren't you, Harry?" Granger consulted the boy to her right.

Potter looked between his two mates, and Draco couldn't quite keep the amusement out of his face.

Potter and his two friends always made a simple, tense triangle; in which Potter was always at the center of it, led to choose between the two of them. Where one of them was Ronald Weasley, who may be a prideful idiot, nobly goofy, and all awkward, gangly angles; but he was a loyal, best friend and Draco had found that no matter what their differences may be, he and Potter could never really cut their friendship in half (for anything). Potter cared more about Weasel's opinion, than he did of his own girlfriend. Funny, that. Draco always found their relationship a bit too close to his irk but thankfully, Weasel was straight as a rod. And then, the other was Hermione Granger: smart, in-ordinary, supportive, and overly kind. She was also, bossy and pushed her ideas so far down your throat that you could suffocate through it. She was headstrong, but she also, knew what she wanted. Potter and her relationship really was one of those platonic ones; a mutual respect for one another, a deep trust, and a calm that could always help him through it all. He remembered that while Weasel hadn't believed Potter through the Goblet of Fire's decision, she had believed him without a heartbeat.

"Harry," Granger was giving him a warning look while Weasel was shaking his head and gestured widely in a 'no, don't do it.'

"How about I do this my way?" Potter asked, suddenly looking determined. Draco hadn't time to be fazed because next he knew, Potter was turning to give him a sharp, watchful look. "Do you want to help us, Malfoy?"

Draco felt the unnecessary flutter in his heart, the shaky foundation of his tilted headways a bit for a moment and he tried to come back to reality. It wasn't easy, but he did. And then, he gave Potter and his friends a pitying look. "What help could I offer you, high and mighty Gryffindors?"

"How about: the information we know you have?" Potter made a good point, and Draco couldn't keep the smile off his face. The trio blinked and he knew he was in danger of revealing his real side so he concealed the smile into a smirk and took a step backwards, to lean casually over the wall, but in his nervousness, tripped a bit. Trying not to look embarrassed for his mistake, he huffed at the floor and rubbed at center of his forehead.

"True. The information I have is plenty." He murmured, praying skyward that he didn't look ultimately affected because he so was. His heart was thudding in his chest, and the echo of _'I love you. I love you. I love you_.' was making an appearance again. "But you don't trust me and I don't exactly trust your group either."

"Fine. How about we do this the Slytherin way? A deal where both parties get what they want. A win-win situation, don't you think?" Potter was smart. Unfortunately, he only used it to his advantage against people he considered beneath him; namely, his enemies. Perhaps, he should be flattered that Potter considered him one of those people but Draco didn't exactly come to this world to play a distant mind-game with someone he presumably loved.

Draco sighed. "And what do you have that could remotely help me?" he knew he would agree, but he couldn't help but ask since he was curious on what they could come up with.

Potter and Granger exchanged a glance briefly, before turning to Draco with that persevering look that crunched whatever was in their path. Draco wondered if he could come undone if they put the same perseverance in trying to find who he was in love with. They probably wouldn't.

"We can help with your crush." Granger suggested, bringing Draco to look at her in well-placed shock.

"What?" Weasel was right: _What? _"Why would we do that?"

"He's in Gryffindor, from what I can tell." Granger guessed, shrugging. "So, we can give you the inside help if you want and make him, you know..."

Draco gave her an unimpressed look, and shook his head. "Brilliant. I have two of the most thick-skulled, naive _Gryffindors_ to help me with my love interest. Just brilliant."

"Hey, what's wrong with Gryffindor?" Weasley only had one problem with what Draco said, otherwise, he was planning on ignoring the other important parts. Draco was thankful he wasn't nosing around in his business but sometimes, he thought Weasel was just a bit on the Stupid Dopes side.

"Nothing, except they're very mature and sophisticated. Charming, really." He said this very sarcastically.

"Than, why do you love whoever you do love from Gryffindor?" Granger had a perfectly sensible question. It always made Draco pause for thought. It was ironic really, that he would be defending Potter's deafening qualities if he opened his mouth to answer and Potter would be right in front of him, listening in on the idiotic notion of him falling for Potter's inadequacies.

"You're right, it's a ridiculous notion to love a Gryffindor who, I claim to hate for their idiocy, their complete ineptness, and naivety." He always liked to explain in great detail to Alice or his other conquest why Potter deserved his hate, before he went on about the 'love' portion. Because that portion was almost too hard to come to terms to, sometimes. "I hate him. I hate everything he stands for, sometimes. Too innocent, too fucking righteous." he muttered, and paused. They were staring at him with raised eyebrows, waiting and probably wondering what was wrong with him. "He's-"

"So, you hate him? What, then, Malfoy? Why do you love him?" Potter asked, looking not curious, but impatient. There was that glint in his eyes that implied he knew who Draco was talking about, but surely, he wouldn't.

Draco stared at him and shrugged. "Just one of those things, ain't it, Potter? Just as much as I hate him, I love him twice as much. Perhaps, I'm fond of him." He thought about it, tilting his head and looking curiously at Potter's shoes. "Fond of what he's been, what he's about, what he wants, what he never had, and what he might if he would just let me show him." Draco blinked, coming to reality. "Wait, why am I telling this to you guys?" he questioned himself. Granger's face- even Weasel were starting to look sympathetic, and he tried to destroy that bit with his words.

But once he opened his mouth, he found he had no voice so he stubbornly glared at the floor. When he found his voice again, he spoke: "Look, it would be better if you didn't help me directly. But maybe, being friendly to me would help some. Either way, I'll still help you guys. Only, my information will be highly limited because there is so much you can tell and so much you can't."

"Fine." Potter agreed just as stubbornly. "Fine, then. First, you tell us what we ask you today."

"Ask away." Draco said lightheartedly, gesturing with his arms spread wide.

"Is your father a Death Eater?"

"Harry-!"

"What?"

"That's not..." Granger was giving him looks, searching his face for any signs that Draco may be offended. Draco left no signs at his emotions and smiled wryly.

"He is." He answered. But they knew that already. They were just looking for confirmations.

"Then, where is Voldemort?" Potter didn't bustle around the bush, did he?

"He's wherever he can be. Do you really think anyone knows that?" Draco gave him a condescending look. "One thing I know for sure is that he'll be trying to recruit more of the former Death Eaters around. He probably has Peter Pettigrew help with taking care of him." At this, Potter twitched and looked up in surprise. Draco smirked, he knew Potter would be interested in that. "I think he'll use that rat to enter Hogwarts again and take your blood without causing much uproar."

"You know about Wormtail?" Weasel asked, blinking.

"Sure." Draco answered. "He may be a dirty, measly little rat but, he is one of the most useful to the Dark Lord. Because you see, the Dark Lord scares the jizzies out of him. As long as he fears the Lord, he will remain loyal. You-Know-Who ruled his servants in the First war with fear, didn't you know?"

"I've heard." Potter murmured, deep in thought. "And you know this through your father...?" he questioned, staring at Draco skeptically.

"That is, again, none of your business." He informed with a professional smile he always gave to the newspaper journalist who asked him questions about his father and mother after the second war.

Potter sulked, momentarily left bereft while Granger stepped up. "We're preparing for any possible attacks. Do you think there's anyone else we need to watch out for? I've heard Karkaroff was an ex-Death Eater. He was looking at Harry a bit strangely the night of the welcoming feast."

Draco knew she had a point, and analyzed the situation. Igor Karkaroff was a coward who had run away when Voldemort returned and had been killed by fellow Death Eaters. He wasn't much of a threat, but- "He's not a threat, but he needs watching after. If he offers anything that may look like a portkey, don't take it. Other advise I can give is that Igor cares more about Viktor Krum winning the tournament than, Potter personally. I can guess why he looked strangely at Potter was because he is, for one, Harry Potter, and his former Lord's demise. He probably feels fearful of Potter." Draco snickered. "He'll stay away. Just another coward."

"Just like you were?" Weasel asked tauntingly. Granger hit him.

Draco was just thinking that so, he found the situation funny more than anything. "I'm surprised you're adding past tense." he remarked, smile faltering.

"Well, I guess after the things you've went through, at least I can give you some credit." Weasel added reluctantly. "Some, mind you."

Draco smirked. "Right."

He wondered if he could come to not hate Weasley, but then decided he would always hate him because he had more of an influence on Potter than Draco cared to admit. Perhaps, one day, Potter would come to him on his own and not with his two minions. And maybe, he wouldn't hit Draco with a hex but just corrupt, distort and destroy Draco with a harsh kiss, and with rough hands.

Looking at the Potter before him, Draco could guess the Gryffindor needed more anger and frustration in him to get to that level of animal urges and go through with it.


	13. Part I, chapter thirteen: Indirectly

**Title**: For the First time

**Author**: Mabu  
**Rating:** NC-17  
**Genre:** Romance, Angst, Humor, Adult, Violence.  
**Warning: **Tranformation of Gender; I tell you, I am a very crazy writer, I know. You can take your leave and be done with me, if you want. (Baby, please don't go!)**  
****Disclaimer**: Property of JK Rowling. Quotes from the book may be repeated in here since time is turning.  
**Author's note: **One of the reviews that I really like are the ones that are NOT one-liners. I am not one of those authors, rest assured, who mind lots if someone doesn't like how I do my thing. If you critisize me (and a few have, which I'm very thankful of), I will do my best to alter the situation so that you are not uncomfortable with my story. That is all.

* * *

**Chapter thirteen:**

** Indirectly blamed**

* * *

When all was said and done, the trio turned to leave and Draco was waiting to let out a sigh out of sheer exhaustion when he heard:

"Harry, you coming?"

Draco paused from completely slumping and glanced from the corner of his eyes at Potter who was not walking off the small room like his friends were. Granger and Weasley were giving him strange looks as Potter waited, looking down at Draco and turned to regard his friends.

"You guys go. I'll be there." His friends gave him skeptic looks but Potter seemed to be determined and they nodded, leaving him to confront Draco by himself. Draco thought it was a bit of a twisty coincidence that his wishes should occur so fast and wondered if the room was built like the Room of Requirement to fulfill their wishes. _Not likely. _

"So? What is it, this time?" Draco asked, too tired, and too grumpy to be gratified for a chance.

"What do you know?" Potter's question sounded a bit dumb to Draco who turned to give him a flat look. "I mean, from the _eaveo_ spell. I know you've been eavesdropping on us, so how much do you know?"

Now, Draco knew what he was getting at and felt bitter satisfaction that Potter wanted nothing more than to confirm his Godfather's safety.

"Nothing worth knowing, of course." Draco replied honestly. There were a thousand ways he could have replied, to keep Potter on his toes and never even give a straight answer but the entirety of his being was much too embarrassed and miserable to confront Potter on his own.

Potter was obviously not expecting that reply because he started, and his face that had been firm with determination and barely held fury turned to rattled bewilderment.

"Oh."

_Oh, indeed. _

"Well, whatever it is that you've heard." Potter said unevenly before glaring at Draco. "Don't you dare spew it out to anybody else because if you do, Malfoy, I will find you and I will hex you five different shades of yellow, red, and blue."

"Oh joy." Draco said dryly, giving Potter an impassive once-over before he smiled, eyes a twinge of sadness. "I better not say anything then."

Potter blinked, mouth turned down in befuddlement, and took a step back. He kept staring at Draco as if he was something new out of fresh waters, as if he was finally realizing that the Draco Malfoy he knew for three years as a slimy git was not the Draco Malfoy he knew anymore, and as if the world had turned upside down, into a large puzzle to be solved.

Problem was, Draco couldn't exactly tell from what of the three was the bespectacled prat thinking most of and even as he was tired, he felt a flicker of anticipation.

_Don't. _said his conscience and he saved himself just in time to snap out of his dream.

"Right." Potter murmured mysteriously and left without turning back again. For a moment of silence, in that dark, danky room, he felt the beginnings of despondency and self-pity start up and he threw away the feelings aside, to focus on bigger things.

Things like classes, O.W.L.S., war and... things in general.

_Oh fuck it. _Draco thought, frowning. _It's all to pot._

-0-

It was after the party when Potter turned nineteen that Draco had started to see Potter in a new light. Well, Draco had started to see Potter in a new light long ago, but it had been more dampened by thoughts like:

'_So what if he saved me? He's just the Sodding Saviour! Of course, he'll save everybody; me included._' Somewhere along the line, Potter's discrimination against all things Slytherin had turned to almost a hesitant respect and somewhere along the lines, Draco's contribution as a helper to the Light had been leading him right where it was rooted from the beginning: Potter.

And so, they circled around each other like enemies but when it came time to prowl and pounce, one forgot about fighting and took the mature way and stepped back and the other, waiting to be crushed and beheaded by the lion was left disoriented and shaken up because he realised he wanted the fight; he wanted the carnal, bodily damage. Like in fifth year, he wanted to be in that kind-of contact with Potter, but Potter was backing down, he wasn't taking the game seriously and Draco had felt disappointed.

Disappointed that Potter was moving on with his _Gryffindor_ friends, and _Gryffindor_ fiancée and probably, would have _Gryffindo_r children who would have the same _Gryffindor_ ideals.

_Never Slytherin. _Because it would be just a crime to be with a Slytherin; a Malfoy at that. The thing was, Potter never saw him that way and Draco wasn't about to be desperate enough to try and seduce the attention of an evidently straight, and engaged man. So, it had been the end of his new and unrequited love before it could even be set on fire. Potter wasn't available and Draco was miserable all night and day and then, he couldn't take it anymore. Everywhere; the news of Potter's wedding date coming closer, the wife, Weaslette's interview about her husband's heroism, the excitement among the whole wizarding world, and the cheery little headlines full of Potter's name in the _Daily Prophe_t. It had been excruciatingly difficult to take.

Draco had left England before the wedding and that was that. Somewhere outside the world where Draco was trying to enjoy life a little more obliviously; somewhere in England, there were two vows shared and a kiss for two souls to spent an eternity together.

Draco hated Ginny Weasley every time he was fucked and realised that on top of him wasn't Potter, but some random stranger and the one Potter was on top of, was her.

It was resentment; bitter and so foul that even Draco got tired of it. Alice had saved him from suffocating himself with the hatred but it hadn't been enough. She had seen that. She had seen the fights Draco got into at his favourite bar; she tended to the wounds on his face and his chest. She took care of him, like Pansy once did and she watched as he slowly but surely, broke down into ugly tears, his sobs reaching new heights of anguish and she had held him, petted his hair and soothed him while he let it all out.

That had been Draco's tragically afflicting life before this happened. That had been him and Potter's relationship; the same as it was now. A place where they kept a distance.

And funnily enough, Draco found himself not despairing again over the past. No, he found himself content and filled with happiness as he watched the dragons the school had brought for the Triwizard tournament. He had found the camp close to the half-giant's hut, knowing they were somewhere nearby and there; breathing fire, looking giant and menacing; the exquisitely dangerous creatures that Potter had once faced in the tournament with such pure, energized power. Draco thought it would be perfect if Potter could see them now.

He smiled, satisfied, watching as the Hungarian Horntail struggled against its bindings and growled warningly at the wizards trying to hold him down. Once, seeing this creature had terrified the wits out of him; and for good reason. But now, all he felt was nostalgia and the patter of his heart beating at the thought of coming close to it and touching the scaly skin.

Potter had all the fun, that's why Draco had resented him so in their Hogwarts' earlier years. Maybe now, he could get in on the action and not be so repressed about it. His father had always told him:

'Control yourself, Draco. Malfoy's do not let their enemies get to them. They mock and taunt them with amusement and intimidate them with a just the change of one's facial expression.'

_Well, screw Father's words, I did what he told me to do last time. This time, I do this my way._

The Dragons were guarded at all times. Even if tied by chains and trapped under cages, the Dragons needed tending to and the wizards never seemed to have a break with these maniac, deadly creatures. All night, Draco spent watching the Dragons and reliving the memory of Potter taking the egg and zooming out of the Dragon's vicinity with his Firebolt. Some part of Draco had been wishing that Potter were burnt to crisp, the other felt quarter-pity and quarter-concern. Yes, even then, he had been slowly, but surely falling for the Hero of the Wizarding world.

Potter was attainable again, Draco didn't feel so dirty anymore (except for the fleshy marks Flint had left on him), and the night was cool and refreshing as the wind blew around him.

Life was good all around.

_No need to be down about it. Potter will come. You just need to wait patiently._

And those were the only words that were keeping him from snogging the daylights out of Potter.

-0-

His father always told him that love and friendship were useless and always seemed to drag a perfectly fine individual down through the river of failure.

"This world is based on society, yes, but that does not mean that you mindlessly go and put your trust on someone who will undoubtedly be of no use to you." were his exact words after he had fired Draco's Quidditch instructor when Draco was nine-years old.

"But you have friends, Father." Draco had protested weakly, feeling glum because he had really liked his instructor and he wanted him back.

"Connections, Draco." His Father had explained. "In a world that so depends on social opinion and trends, connections are a must. This does not mean that you fully commit yourself to the person you form connections with. It means that you win their trust, make them follow your every word, and be a leader among the followers."

His father's words had always been so absolute, so correct in their assessment. Back then, Draco used to look at things with his father's view in his mind and it made so much sense. Even now, as he wrote notes in Charms class, it made perfect sense because without the distraction of wanting Potter in every way and some, he was doing a good job at studying.

He was catching up on his courses, read books in the library, mailed his mother occasionally (he had been able to do it after a few tries. She had lots to say about the scandal on _Witch Weekly _but Draco had assured that it was nothing to worry about. If only, it ever increased Draco's glorifying popularity among the ladies), stayed up-date with his father too (it had started a few days ago that his father mailed him about how things were going. Draco took this as the opportunity to ask about his plans. His father had replied much too brief and with no information on what he was planning to do about Lord Voldemort.), ignored the first task for he already knew what would happen (surprisingly enough for him though, Cedric Diggory didn't do so good on the match. It seemed he hadn't been informed about the Dragons until very late. Draco wondered why that was so), had a few conversations with Snape where they discussed some of what Draco knew (Snape never asked too much and Draco never answered too readily, for he knew some things were better left unsaid.), and didn't snog a single bloke since the incident with Flint.

He should be given a medal. No, really, he should.

Draco was already feeling tired of all the 'No play' and suffice to say, he was ready to let it go for the Yule Ball. Now, if only he knew who to take.

It was while he was comparing his leg to an unknown girl's hairless, smooth-looking, white leg during Charm class that he got a very Mischievous Idea.

He smirked triumphantly.

His Father would be so proud.

-0-

The idea was simple; turning into a female and accompanying a bloke to the Ball.

Draco had no problem being a girl. He felt jealous of girls all the time, though not of their genitalia for one. Draco had never really preferred the pussy compared to the dick. He had it bad for cocks and really loved sucking them with a vigor. It had been his trip to Berlin that had really stolen his innocence (he had lost his virginity with Pansy in sixth year, and what an awful year that had been) and never again could he ever run away from the fucked-up world that was for all intents and purposes, Queer.

There, he had met a few cool transsexuals who had altered their upper area or even, bottom region by magic. He had once asked how they had done it and in good detail, they had told him all about it (Transfigurations; could you guess? With that woman, McGonagall as their instructor, Draco could never associate sex with). Draco had been intrigued as he had listened, but he had never tried. Perhaps, because who would he try it for? The guys who fucked him weren't all that interested about fetishes or kinks; they were all about: 'How long can I get inside your hole? Cause' I want it now.'

Thinking about that, Draco felt a sure sense of resolve that he wouldn't get as fucked up now that there was a second chance. And whoever the guy he would go with, he wouldn't fuck. Just snog, that was safe territory.

The transfiguration part wasn't easy but Draco practiced the spell in the Room of Requirement whenever he got the chance. The room had been useful as far as that went. Apparently, what he wished for were lots of clear mirrors surrounding him, and a comfy bed.

Draco had always somewhat gotten attached to the room after his sixth year. It was the place he had planned his mission for Voldemort and had succeeded; that feeling of accomplishment that lasted only a few minutes before the danger of the situation finally hit him and he started panicking. That had all happened here. The fire, the running, and the Headmaster falling off the Astronomy Tower, slowly and beyond a narrowing doubt, never to return.

Draco had first only planned to change the upper parts of his body, maybe just add a bit of a feminine curve to his spine, shave his legs and arms through a spell while he was at it, and smooth his skin by moisturising charms. That was where he started it, but while he was at it, he had looked himself in the mirror and the limp cock on his front made a wrong picture, somehow.

So, he altered his penus; which was a scary and hard process. He had to be careful not to completely bugger it all. He hadn't always been good at transfigurations, so he was a bit nervous but in the end, the result had been worth it. He looked down at his own female cunt, and it was good material; red and fleshy and waiting to be rammed on.

_No. No buggering. Just there to look at. _He told himself firmly.

"Aren't we pretty?" He said to the empty room, looking down at the thing between his legs. Taking his, now tiny, feminine finger, he ran it down the silky, smooth way by the hole. Frowning, he realised what a major mistake that was because his new hole started twitching in anticipation. He snatched his hand away and looked down at the thing again, pensively.

"You're obviously enjoying my discomfort, aren't you?" He asked the thing, feeling very resentful all of a sudden because he kept imagining Potter and Weaslette together again. "Well, fuck you, then." he cursed and looked away.

A few minutes later, he looked at the mirror and there sat, with her legs spread over; a lady with blond hair, grey eyes, and pink lips. It was him but admittedly, a prettier version.

"Is this cheating?" He asked the mirror abruptly.

The Room of Requirement didn't have the answer to that.

But Draco thought he could hear the answer echoing through the empty walls, ringing louder in the silence and yet, remaining as vague as ever.

-0-

"Draco." Pansy called him the next evening, as he sat next to her at the Slytherin table for dinner. "Who're you taking to the Ball to?"

Draco, who had been changing his mind back and forth throughout the day, frowned. "Do I have to?"

Pansy gave him a shocked look and then, came out of it with a snap. "What do you mean: 'Do I have to'? Of course, you do!" He turned to her, wondering why she was complaining. "It would be boring without you, otherwise!"

_Ah._

Pansy and Zabini had noticed that Draco had been going missing from the dorm and the Slytherin gatherings lately and they had decided to bet one-on-one that Draco was going to pull something crazy off at the Yule Ball. Now, Draco realised, they were kind-of depending on him to bring the fun at the Ball.

Because obviously, Draco was Slytherin's mascot. No matter what he threatened to do to Nott or Zabini, the surrounding Slytherins depended on Draco to bring the evil, and sexy as fuck fun to the counter.

With the rumors about The Weird Sisters coming to perform for the Ball, and the three champion's mysterious decision about who they were taking to the Ball, it all came down to which one of the suckers could be the most entertaining. The thing was, Draco was planning something outrageous but now, thinking of what his father would do if he found out...

Draco couldn't risk_ that_, could he?

"Do I really have to?" Draco asked again. Pansy glared at him, lips thinning in a line. "Fine." he turned to Krum who was sitting across him. "So, who're you taking, Krum?"

The grumpy bloke looked up from his day-dreams and blinked. "Taking who?"

"For the Yule Ball?" Draco decided to elaborate. Pansy looked cross at his blatant refusal to answer but looked immediately interested in who Viktor Krum was taking for the Ball. Well, Draco already knew who he was taking; if memory served right. He would have some competition to go up to with Granger as gorgeous as she had looked at the Ball.

"Oh." Krum seemed to comprehend what exactly and then, started to frown deeply. "It would not be wise for me to tell you."

Pansy stared, baffled while Draco couldn't help but chortle. _So, Granger's told him to keep it a secret! Oh, that is brilliant. _

"What do you mean by that?" Pansy asked, obviously distraught by the answer.

"She-" Krum began. "-wants to keep it a secret until the Ball."

"Oh."

_Bet Weasley would be pissed off this time too. Wonder what excuse he'll bring up now that Potter's not Krum's 'enemy' anymore. Oh merlin, I'm having too much fun with this._

Draco took a look at the Gryffindor table out of sheer amusement to pin-point where Weasel was and stopped as he eyed the one sitting next to the red-head. As if sensing Draco's stare, Potter looked up and gazed back evenly, looking wary yet inquisitive. Draco never got it but whenever he looked into Potter's eyes, he never wanted to look away and it was like time went by too fast when Potter turned away from his gaze.

"Draco?" Pansy asked while ringing bells sounded everywhere.

Draco sighed, not looking away from the profile of Potter's hunched up figure. "I am going to the Ball."

Pansy perked up. "Really? Who with?"

Draco looked away finally, knowing with certainty that Potter could sense his intense staring and probably even squirmed.

"I don't have to go with someone, right?" He asked rhetorically.

Pansy deflated, her face going through a dawning realisation. "You're not going with a bloke, are you? Draco, I don't know about that. Wouldn't that be, I don't know, not allowed?"

"Hello." Draco waved away her concern. "Our Headmaster's gay, you think this school will be homophobic about which gender we should bring?"

"I suppose not." Pansy supplied, knowing he was right. "Well, for once, I wanted to see you with a girl. I mean, it was in the article that you are bi. So, that means, you do like girls."

Draco turned to regard her. She gave him an innocent look.

"Would you be happy if I kissed you?" he asked, much to his own chagrin.

Her eyes widened and she inexplicably blushed. "Well... Erhm," she paused, looking up. "Yes." she said breathlessly.

Draco glanced skeptically at Zabini who was staring at Pansy, agape. When faced with Draco's eyebrow'd permission, he shrugged.

"Fine." He said with a roll of his eyes. _Fucking Slytherin. If you like her and don't want her to kiss me, say it to my face. Tosser._

Pansy straightened up, pressed her lips together and fixed a few locks of her hair as Draco waited. She gazed up at him, her eyes alight with energy and expectation.

"This better be good." she murmured as he leaned in.

"Oh yeah. It will be." He breathed against her lips as they touched. _as a Fuck you gift, for you, Zabini. _

And then, they started ravishing each other. It was instant chemistry for Pansy; and nostalgic familiarity for Draco that made the kiss so well worth it. It probably had to happen some day; Pansy had to get him out of her system, some way and this was all Draco could give her now. So, he opened his mouth and let her taste his tongue, swirl it around together, and mesh each other's soft mouth tightly, passionately, and with energy. The same energy with which Potter handled his broom.

Draco used to be so repressed, so controlled about everything so that, every dip and narrow cut was elegant instead of what Potter did; raw and reckless, sharp and watchful. Draco's broom technique may be near perfect but he couldn't do what Potter could do; flying with passion. For Draco, it was all a competition. Granted, Potter cared to win and celebrate his victory every single time, so that he could rub it on Draco's face, but Potter loved flying with his whole soul. Draco liked flying too, but in the midst of all the hatred for Potter's consecutive wins, bitterness for not having the new and fresh Firebolt, and losing face as a Seeker every time among his teammates; it began to matter less about flying and more about rubbing Potter's gritty face through the dirt.

When the kiss was over, Draco was satisfied to see Pansy flushed and panting, her eyes grazed with lust, and her hands dug tightly into Draco's collar.

"Holy shit." some male student said from behind, breaking the tense silence that had befallen the Great Hall during their act. After that colourful comment, the whole room started to murmur, whisper amongst each other while Pansy gathered her wits and settled herself back to the bench (she had somehow turned out to straddle Draco's leg during).

Draco peeked slightly at the staff table and saw Dumbledore watching him with that twinkle in his eye. He blinked as the old wizard smiled at him.

"Oh great." He breathed, relieved and feeling a bit strange for not being reprimanded at what he just did. Public display of affection wasn't allowed anywhere here at school and he had thought for sure that he would be getting more detentions on his schedule. But it seems Professor Dumbledore had stopped any teacher from doing anything.

"It was." Pansy said after. Draco looked at her and wondered what she was talking about.

"Anyway, I've proved to you that I don't mind girls nor boys. I am bi. It's very simple, actually." Draco told her, tone matter-of-fact. "I hope I don't have to demonstrate anymore of this nonsense."

She raised her eyes to watch him for a couple of moments before she smiled. "Yeah, you're bi. Congrats for proving yourself, Draco."

He rolled his eyes at her and picked up his cup of pumpkin juice, gulping it down.

"So." Queenie leaned in. "Who're you taking to the Ball, Draco?" she gave a flirtatious smirk and Draco stared at her.

"Back off, Queenie." Pansy warned, looking angry.

"Why? Is he your boyfriend, Pans'?"

"No, but he doesn't like fangirls, so back off."

"I'll back off when you back off, pug-face."

"What did you just call me, fat arse!"

Draco thought about it while the two argued. Queenie could be his safe date to the Yule Ball. Nothing problematic could turn out and he would be free from buying female dress gowns and undergarments that would probably kill him if he wore them.

_Coward. _Some part of him voiced out.

"Actually." Draco interjected, cutting Pansy and Queenie's conversation in half and stepping in on the tension that was boiling between them. "I need you two's help with something."

"Help?" Pansy questioned doubtfully.

Queenie looked interested. "What?"

Draco looked around, some students were staring at them. "Not here." he said and stood up, gesturing for them to follow him.

-0-

"You're going to- what?" Pansy looked appalled.

Queenie's eyes augmented before they narrowed in mischievous glee. "And you want us to assist with your lady 'things'?"

Draco nodded.

"How do you even know how to do the spell?" Pansy was disgruntled, but was starting to look as interested as Queenie was.

Draco smirked. "Secret." he said as he swished around his wand.

BAM.

"Wow." Both girls stared as he turned into one himself.

"Those are nice tits." commented Queenie with gaping eyes.

Pansy stared, searching his covered body for something before she stared at the general area of his crotch. "What about _that_?"

"You guys are so simple." Draco said with a shake of his head. He went to unzip his pants when Pansy cried.

"No! I don't need to see that."

Draco looked up, exasperated. "Pansy, don't worry, it's still my penus."

"That's exactly what I don't want to see!" she yelled.

"I do." Queenie added, licking her lips.

Draco gave a disturbed look. "Fine. No demonstration." He knew he looked put-out but for whatever reason, he was.

"You're such an exhibitionist, Draco." Queenie remarked.

Draco gaped at her. "I am not!" he was a little indignant at the accusation.

"You always like to flaunt around the better parts of yourself and now this-" she gestured at Draco's tits and then, down to his legs. "I know why you're turning into a girl. It's because you want to show off your legs and other parts of you that you can't show off with male dress robes. Right? It's so obvious. You crave that type of attention."

"Well, it's the only way to get his attention." Draco mumbled softly.

"What did you say?"

"Nothing. So, where do you think I should buy my dress gowns from?"

Pansy and Queenie exchanged looks and smirked. "Leave it to us." they said in unison and for one second, Draco got an image of the Weasley Twins. It was very disconcerting.

The Weasley Twins scared him. Pansy and Queenie were starting to look _that_ scary.

_Oh lord, help me._


	14. Part I, chapter fourteen: a shortcut

**Title**: For the First time

**Author**: Mabu  
**Rating:** NC-17  
**Genre:** Romance, Angst, Humor, Adult, Violence.  
**Disclaimer**: Property of JK Rowling. Quotes from the book may be repeated in here since time is turning.  
**Warning**: Transformation of Gender. POV change.  
**Author's note: **Reviewers, your answers lie down here.

* * *

**Chapter fourteen:**

**Cheated Enchantment (a shortcut)**

* * *

They had all known that Malfoy was planning something for the Yule Ball; the question was what exactly? It was all that was being talked about since that day at the supper when Pansy asked Malfoy who he was taking to the Ball. When Malfoy had changed the subject and moved on to Krum, things may have seemed to disperse on itself but afterwards, he had left with his two female companions for 'help'.

It was disconcerting, or so Hermione said after they had listened in on their conversation from the 'Eaveo' spell.

Harry and Ron weren't the type to spy on other people, but the spell was addicting and Hermione thought it could be of use to know what everyone was planning (or most probably, to keep tabs on Malfoy). With the new concept of Voldemort's resurrection at its very edge, the trio had been feeling paranoid about things in general. Hermione's suspicion on the Durmstrang Headmaster still hadn't left after their chat with Malfoy.

And Harry could not stop thinking about the vision he had when his scar started hurting. It had hurt on the night that Barty Crouch Jr.'s real identity was known too but Harry hadn't told Ron or Hermione of that. They were already tense about that one time, he didn't need to tell them about the repeat. The second time, it was more of the anger than the memory that had left him disorientated when he woke up in the middle of the night.

The case of Malfoy's new strange behavior was the highlight of everyone's speculation. Even Harry who did not have time for gossip or blokes with clearly, daddy issues, was a bit nervous and intrigued about what Malfoy would do this time.

Clearly, whatever everyone was expecting was just an exaggeration. Harry could not think Draco would do the many various acts that people seemed to think he would.

Because, what Malfoy did for the Yule Ball was so much better than any of those offensive acts.

_It was_, Harry thought,_ a very nice... whatever that was._

-0-

Harry had just been dazzled and stunned by Hermione's change as she walked down the stairs slowly and was led out by Viktor Krum himself. Harry was happy for her and smiled as she went away into the chandelier, glittery entrance of the Yule Ball. Harry was waiting for his date, Parvati Patil by the stairs with Ron who was sulking in the corner about his frilly dress robes and Hermione's unexpected date for the Ball.

"Why did she not tell us? What, did she think we would make fun of her?" He was asking as Harry searched the stairs. Harry, especially thought that Ron should stop adding the 'we' because he did not feel like particularly making fun of Hermione. Ron, however, wouldn't like to hear the truth so he refrained from honestly saying anything.

"Maybe, she thought we wouldn't believe her." he supplied, reminded of how Ron had rudely implied that Hermione was not 'a girl'. Ron's downside would always be his complete ineptness in getting a girl's heart. Well, Harry wasn't doing so well in that department either as he thought about Cho Chang being taken by the hand by none other than Hogwart's champion, Cedric Diggory.

_He's not so charming. I probably would have fought that Dragon better than he did. _Harry had thought jealously, feeling bitter because he had been thinking about asking Cho for the Ball but didn't get the strength to do so. Afterwards, he had just asked Parvati as a date, as to not feel like a complete loser. Ron was accompanying Parvati's sister for the date but he didn't seem so keen to meet her, much less lead her to the Ball. Harry rolled his eyes internally and turned his head over to look at the top of the staircase again, just in time to hear:

"Draco!" being called. There was a black flash as Pansy Parkinson, dressed in an ebony dress rushed up the stairs with Queenie Greengrass following on her toes. Harry and he could see all the other people nearby looked up, way at the top, searching for that blond-haired Slytherin.

And then, Harry saw him- her, er.

It was Draco Malfoy, of course; the features on his face were as pointy as ever, his signature platinum hair were curly; the color the same as ever, but it was a softer version- a female version. A female version that was dressed in a slim, green strapless gown that reached his long tell-tale slim legs, with crystals embedded on the neckline.

"Blimey." breathed Ron from behind him. Harry nodded, feeling utterly speechless. He couldn't even finish the thought of: _so this is what Malfoy was planning_ because the words were stuck in his throat.

Malfoy had make-up on, eye-shadow that made a fierce line and gave his eyes a wicked gleam. His hairs were small but curly and well, gorgeous. Harry felt wrong with admitting it but it _was _(gorgeous, that is), in a girl-y way. His- her bare arms were smooth, and white and she- he made an elegant picture of a stunning woman.

"Oh, you look wonderful, Draco." squealed Parkinson as she drew near Malfoy and looked over her- his dress. _Okay, have to stop with that. It's a he. Malfoy's a he. He's a him. A boy, bloke. A git, at that._

_Well, Malfoy wasn't really much of a git lately._ Harry admitted much to himself, still staring at the blonde persona standing with heels on. Malfoy had his face directed, for most of those minutes as Harry was staring at him, to his female friends. But just as Harry was starting to convince himself to look away and succeeding even, Malfoy's sharp eyes caught Harry's.

They kept doing this lately. On Breakfast, Potions classes, Dinner, or even, in the corridors. Harry wasn't dense but he kept telling himself that these looks didn't mean much; just something that happens daily, nothing to wonder about and lose sleep over. After all, Malfoy _was acting_ strange lately: this staring thing was just another one of his strange habits.

Strange but, paralysing- these stares had started to affect Harry's mind-set recently. It made him freeze in his thoughts and blink, wonder about why the look on Malfoy's face was such an intense, endearing, and attention-calling oddity.

Malfoy smirked and Harry found himself wondering what he had eaten at lunch this morning that made his stomach wave rapidly. It was very confounding.

"Well, now we know that Malfoy's utterly nuts and can't be changed." said Ron with a shake of his head. Harry, who had been busy staring at Malfoy's slim waist, covered by the green gown, jolted out of his reverie and turned to Ron. "Harry. What's wrong?" Ron asked as he noticed Harry's heart-palpating, alarmed face.

"What?" Harry asked, raking a hands through his messy hair. His hands were clammy with sweat and his heart was racing terribly fast. "What is it?"

"Well, you're looking a little flushed there-" Ron said, gesturing to Harry's face in general and furrowing his brows in confusion.

"Oh. Yeah. It's a bit hot in here, isn't it?" Harry said, pulling at his dress robes and trying to look casual whilst keeping a look at Malfoy from his peripheral vision.

"Yeah, I suppose so." Ron admitted obliviously though now that Harry noticed, the atmosphere was cool all around.

Then, an action at the corner of their vision made both their heads snap around again.

Malfoy ambled down the stairs, his eyes directed at Potter's, piercing in their depth and once he reached the bottom step- which was close to Harry and Ron- he smiled at the dark-haired, confused boy and moved past him, the pleasant cologne of his hitting Harry like a bludger. Harry blinked, frozen on his tracks.

"What's his problem?" grumbled Ron by his side, who was glancing moodily at where Malfoy was presumably at. Harry moved his face in the general direction of his ire too and watched as Malfoy smiled flirtatiously at some Durmstrang student who was burly and buff by the looks of it, and took his hand while being led to the Ball.

Out of all the girls he had seen being led to the entrance of the Yule Ball, this one left him the most unexpectedly bereft.

-0-

When Harry had had enough with Parvati's insistence at dancing together ("I'd rather not." Harry'd refuse, feeling nervous) and then, leaving with a huff and Ron's constant complaints over Hermione's date for the Yule Ball and their rather unnecessary fight ("Don't call him Vicky!" Hermione had cried, leaving with a hunched, angry profile), he had slipped out of the dance floor, to take a walk outside for some fresh air.

What he had not been expecting were couples all around making out over every other corner. He even thought there were some at the rose bushes at his surrounding, Harry didn't even need to know what they were doing in there so he kept his head down and moved through the ornamental path, regretting coming out for a moment.

"Where're ya goin'?" A gruff voice asked from one of the corner, not to Harry but someone else. Harry wouldn't have paid attention except he could see that familiar set of blond hairs in the dark shadows, approaching him from the side. He looked up to find Malfoy's female body standing an arm's distance from his Durmstrang date.

"It's getting a bit stuffy in here, isn't it? I should go." this was the first time Harry was hearing Malfoy's female voice and it wasn't one of those soft, girl-y voices. It was quite bold and Malfoy-esque actually (complete with the dry and sarcastic tone).

"Wait." called the man, holding Malfoy's slim wrist. "I- what did I do wrong?"

Brusquely, Malfoy yanked back his wrist and gave a glare. "Nothing." he spit out and turned around, walking straight for Harry's direction with that same fierce look. Harry, who had been unprepared for his presence looked around awkwardly, trying to find an escape. "Potter." Harry didn't have enough time and Malfoy grabbed his wrist rather tightly, dragging him unexpectedly out of the Durmstrang student's way, and pulling him to who-knows-where. There were carved benches around where girls and boys were sitting, staring at each other romantically and he could hear splashing water noises coming from close-by.

"Wha-" Harry was a bit confused and speechless. Also, Malfoy was still wearing that strapless green gown and looking like a pretty girl. "What do you-"

"Potter, shut up, would you?" Malfoy asked, looking back at him with a very foul and tired look. The plane of his forehead was wrinkled from stress.

"What's wrong?" Harry couldn't help but ask and mentally noted to himself to slap himself later when he was out of whatever this was.

Malfoy stared at him and the foul look soon softened to a somewhat mild frustration. "I-" Malfoy paused, his lips parted as if to say something and eyes meaningfully gazing at Harry as if, as if- Harry didn't even want to guess right now but Malfoy was looking at him with that look again and some part of him that was_ not t_hinking moved (_he must have lost his balance_); he realised a minute too late that his head leaned just a bit close to Malfoy's whose eyes were wide and even in the night, Harry could see clearly the color of his eyes. The grey stones glistening white, and pink mouth held ajar, trembling a bit as the cool wind blew around them (_Harry thought it was a wonderful sigh_t).

And he didn't know what he was thinking of accomplishing, really, by leaning his head further in instead of away but the breath they shared in that one moment seemed to last a hundred many hours. They didn't move, didn't let their lips touch, just a brush of their noses meeting sideways, and the freezing of both of their bodies in just that one position. An unknown desire burned at the tip of where their noses touched, and they both knew somehow that they could not let each other get any more closer. They didn't trust in the other or their own instincts to cover that small distance up.

Thankfully, there was a noise of approaching footsteps coming from the darkness and just as easily, as if the moment had never happened, they both turned their head away at the same time; putting as much distance apart between them as they could.

"... Don't see what there is to fuss about, Igor." the familiarly unpleasant voice sounded like Professor Snape to Harry as he came closer.

"Severus, you cannot pretend this isn't happening!" Karkaroff's voice sounded anxious and hushed, as though keen not to be overheard. "It's been getting clearer and clearer for months. I am becoming seriously concerned, I can't deny it."

"Then flee," said Snape's voice curtly. "Flee. I will make your excuses. I, however, am remaining at Hogwarts." Snape and Karkaroff came around the corner. Snape had his wand out and was blasting at the rosebushes, making some of the couples spread apart from each other and Harry flushed, thinking he and Malfoy could have been mistaken for one of the couples if they had carried on that way too. And then, just as the thought came to him, he tried to erase it from his mind but once the plague was there; it was impossible to remove.

"Ten points from Ravenclaw, Fawcett!" Snape snarled as a girl ran past him. "And ten points from Hufflepuff too, Stebbins!" as a boy went rushing after her.

"And what are you two doing here?" he demanded, catching sight of Harry and Malfoy on the path ahead, his eyes flickered between the two of them and narrowed suspiciously (almost as if he knew). Karkaroff looked slightly discomposed to see them standing there and shut his mouth from speaking again.

"Walking?" Malfoy stated, though it sounded more like a question than anything.

"Walk somewhere else then!" snarled Snape, glaring at Malfoy like Harry hadn't seen before.

"No, wait," Malfoy turned to stop Snape before he could rush past them. "I needed to talk to you. About mum."

Snape gave an unnaturally sober look at his student and nodded. "Later."

"Yes." Malfoy gave a twisted smile, watching as Snape ambled away, his robes billowing out behind him. Karkaroff, looking scared and nervous, followed right behind, giving a glance at Harry one last time before leaving.

"Might want to tell me why even you have become a target of Snape's biased hatred." Harry began nonchalantly, as they walked side-by-side.

"You don't want to know." exhaled Malfoy, pushing a hand through his curly locks of hair. Harry noticed that he was looking really hay-wire now, not as gorgeously staged anymore for people to admire as he did when he first showed up at the entrance hall but just a naturally messed up look. The eyeshadow was fading on his upper eyelid and his hairs were starting to lose their neat state, sticking out everywhere.

"And about what Karkaroff was talking about?" Harry questioned, realising that he had been staring at Malfoy again. He had to stop that.

"The Dark Mark's responding." murmured Malfoy as if talking to himself (he had done that before too; when he was confessing to them why he loved the person he loved from Gryffindor. It was the most mind-boggling scene they'd ever witnessed and it continued to boggle his mind).

"The Dark Mark." Harry blinked, remembering something from the night at the Quidditch World Cup. "Wasn't that summoned on the sky at the World Cup by some Death Eater?"

Malfoy nodded. "That's not the only place it goes." he looked down and Harry watched as he lifted his right arm and touched the bare skin on his inner wrist. "It's placed right here." he drew out some kind of nonsensical sketch, just a pattern that Harry couldn't follow with just his eyes. Also, Malfoy's soft voice as he explained was distracting him. "When a Death Eater takes a vow to always listen to the Dark Lord, the Dark Mark is stitched here; grotesque and filled with that- You-Know-Who's blood. It connects a Death Eater to the Dark Lord and never lets him forget him where his loyalties lie. It's a Master and servant promise and if the Dark Lord arises, the scar will start to hurt; calling for them to gather at their Master's side." Harry was starting to understand now and he gazed into Malfoy's eyes by accident and they stopped walking.

"You have to stop doing that." Malfoy whispered suddenly, voice low and full of warning. Harry leaned in to hear him better, reaching a level where he was able to see Draco's pink cheeks real close.

"What?" He asked, baffled.

"Staring at me."

Harry's eyes widened and he took a step back, disbelieved. "You- _You_ keep staring at _me_!" Malfoy glanced at him, eyes alight with energy again as Harry stammered. "Every time I look at you, every time I turn around; you're there, looking at me. Don't you think I've noticed? Why do you keep giving me_ these looks_? And you're complaining about _me s_taring at you." He glared at Malfoy who was starting to look a little... amused? Why the fuck was the guy amused now? Harry didn't find anything funny about this- not funny when every time he thought about the meaning behind those looks-

"Arry'? Is that yeh?" called a familiar voice that Harry recognised to be Hagrid. Harry turned around and saw the big, old guy come out from behind the sparkling, tall fountain nearby.

"Hagrid." Harry started, looking from Malfoy to Hagrid who had another person behind him, he recognised the enormous figure as Madam Maxine and with their appearance, Harry thought perhaps they had disturbed a moment between the two.

"You a'right, Arry'? I eard' yeh shouting from there." asked Hagrid, looking concerned. Malfoy snorted from beside him. "Who're you?" just when Harry was about to tell him it was Malfoy, a dawning realisation lightened up the huge man's features. "Malfoy?" he turned to Harry again. "Is Malfoy bugging yeh, Arry'?"

"Oh, brilliant." scoffed Malfoy, turning his back to Hagrid as if ignoring him and Harry felt the abrading twitch in his brows.

"No. No. We were just-" Harry glanced at the annoying prat in beleaguer. "We were just talking."

"Oh." Hagrid's large eyebrows went up the hair-line before they furrowed and then, he nodded. "Well, I'll leave yeh to it, then."

Harry nodded back at him as Hagrid's giant body turned and he lead Madam Maxine out of there.

"Well-" Malfoy was about to say something probably vexing by the tone of his voice and his body language but was interrupted from doing so, thankfully for Harry, when another set of footsteps approached.

This time, it was Rogers Davies (the Ravenclaw Captain, Malfoy had snogged the second time in the Great Hall) and Fleur Delacor, coming out of the rose-bushes. Fleur didn't look so pleased to be out of their making-out place but Rogers was smirking.

"Malfoy. I did hear from my friends that you were an annoyingly attention-seeking prat but didn't know you could fall this far." said Davies mockingly, looking down at Malfoy in a disdainful manner.

Malfoy smirked, tilting his head proudly (it showed off his long neck that look utterly delicio- _Stop. Stop. No). _"Why? Are you jealous? Or perhaps, want to assault me now that I've become absolutely delectable?"

Harry's eyebrows furrowed. _Way to make a comeback, Malfoy. You're just asking for it. _He thought as he stuck a little close to Malfoy. He didn't like the way Davies was baring his teeth at Malfoy, it made him feel a little protective.

"Haven't learned your lesson, have you, Malfoy? Heard Flint gave it to you real good." Davies sneered, mentioning things that should not be mentioned. Harry watched Malfoy closely as the boy blinked twice and glared in fury at Davies. "But you didn't cry, did you? No. Was it because, perhaps, you liked it?" Harry thought this was all a little uncalled for and was about to break it off when Fleur stepped in, looking highly put-off.

"What are ze talkin' about?" she looked to her date, looking confused and a bit superior with her heavily french accent.

Malfoy straightened up, smirking suddenly by his side as he moved towards the couple. And then, he started speaking in another language; looking straight at Fleur as he spoke politely and Harry could guess he was speaking French now. Fleur seemed to be pleasantly surprised at his fluency and spoke excitedly. They talked for a couple of moments and the two blokes who couldn't understand a word looked awkwardly at each other.

"Iz zat so?" Fleur seemed to have a new iciness in her eyes as she smirked coolly back at Malfoy, who was starting to look a little smug. When the part-Veela turned to regard her date for the ball, Harry knew Malfoy had convinced her to his side because she was looking very cold and icy despite the smile on her lips. Harry wouldn't want to be caught in her anger and was happy when she brought her mouth seductively close to Davies' and dragged him with her as he followed with dazed eyes.

"What did you say to her?" Harry was curious. Malfoy shrugged and Harry let it go. He had other matters he needed to discuss with Malfoy. "Why is Karkaroff asking Snape about it?" He always had been suspicious about Snape's involvement with Voldemort and now, he had evidence of sorts.

Malfoy sighed. "Look, Potter, now is not the time to talk about this."

"Well, when is it, then?" Harry impatiently demanded. Malfoy gave him an annoyed glare. "Except for that one time, you haven't been giving us any-"

"Look. I remember the deal." Malfoy interjected, starting to look a little ill at ease. He moved just a bit closer to Harry and whispered. "I'll tell you about it but do you see how many people are around here? I can't talk about private things and expect to not be eavesdropped on. Thanks to you and Granger's help, half the school knows the spell so, we might as well. Stop. Talking."

Harry stared at him, stubbornly searching his face for some sign that he might just be running away from answering. When he found no inclinations to that, he nodded.

"Fine." he turned away from Malfoy. "I should go inside. Ron might be looking for me."

Malfoy's gaze bore on his side as he didn't dare look back because he knew Malfoy would still be intensely giving him that look.

"Yeah." Malfoy murmured softly. "Yeah, go to your Weasel."

With those almost bitterly spoken words, Malfoy turned around and left abruptly without looking back. Harry watched as his back disappeared into thin air and shrugged away the strange thoughts that had accompanied him on his walk with Malfoy.


	15. Part I, chapter fifteen: lethargy

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**Title**: For the First time

**Author**: Mabu  
**Rating:** NC-17  
**Genre:** Romance, Angst, Humor, Adult, Violence.  
**Disclaimer**: Property of JK Rowling. Quotes from the book may be repeated in here since time is turning.  
**Warning**: (Fluff? Me? Nooooo)  
**Author's note: **What's that? The audience is getting impatient about the romantic developement between the main pairing? Well, I honestly don't think anything's going to be solved with just a kiss. Be patient and here is a little something that will cheer Draco right up.

* * *

**Chapter fifteen:**

**Endearing lethargy**

* * *

It had been a nagging week of wondering: "_What will Father do when he finds out? What if he knows_?" and the panicked thoughts of: "_He'll know, he'll definitely know_."

Draco had been able to pull off the stunt with being a female, but it may not have been worth the trouble that it usually was. At first, the music, the dancing, the adrenaline, and emphatic attention he was getting from none other than the Boy-Who-Lived had been getting to his head but later, when the burning thoughts cooled off and he thought about what his Father would think, things had certainly been too late.

And there was the matter of wondering whether Rita Skeeter had been there or not. If she had been, she would put Potter and him together on some ridiculous story which his father probably wouldn't believe because he knew better. But it would certainly raise his suspicions.

"What were you doing that night with Potter, son?" would be his first question. After Christmas, his father hadn't mailed him and he had yet to reply to his mother's concerned letter.

Convinced that he was not going to survive the summer after his fourth year in the Malfoy Manor, Draco came up with another one of his plans. This one was clearly more soberly thought of and given a lot of analyzing and cataloging.

The objective was simple; it was the path with which he was leading himself that was impossible to ignore.

"Sit down, Mr. Malfoy. What is that you want from me?" asked Severus Snape as he entered the Potions' Master's office. Draco didn't take a seat, he stood there staring at his mentor's head as the wizard checked off on some essays by the desk. After a little while of staring, Snape looked up and regarded him coolly. "Is it urgent?"

Draco shrugged.

Snape looked back at his essay and continued to check the pile of them off. "Alright, what is it that you want?"

"Karkaroff seems worried." Draco began conversationally. Snape stopped writing off on the paper he was working on and glared at him. "Not that I care. I can understand; the Dark Mark's responding and he's probably worried that Voldemort will return."

"Remind me why you are my favorite student." Snape gritted out, looking frustrated probably because he couldn't hit Malfoy across the face.

Draco shrugged again. He paused and then, spoke: "I need to talk to my mother."

"Then, do so. She told me you haven't mailed her since Christmas." Snape said, disinterested.

"I need to fire-call her." he finally said.

Snape stopped checking his essay and pulled narrowed eyes at Draco. "Why?" he asked slowly.

"I need to talk to her." Draco repeated.

"And you can't do that through owl mail?"

"No."

His mentor stared at him for a minute before sighing in frustration, grumbling about 'students with no brain' and stood up.

"Follow me." He said and Draco did, following him out of the office and to his quarters. Draco had been here before so he didn't even blink as Serverus murmured a password to a portrait of a creepy-eyed, thin man and pulled him inside his living room. His mentor went to the fireplace for preparations and Draco sat down on the sofa in front of it.

"Call her on the French Estate." Draco informed, rubbing at his hands nervously.

"May I ask, for my sake of sanity, that this is not an emergency and you are just acting like a spoiled brat wanting to see his mother?" Serverus asked abruptly, turning and eying Draco skeptically.

"Neither." Draco answered with a dull smile.

Snape nodded, satisfied and turned the fire-call on. "Have a nice chat." he said and left for his bedroom, giving him the privacy he much needed.

Draco was grateful for Severus' kind gestures and forgot all about his tension for one moment before his mother's face appeared in the fireplace.

"Draco?" she asked, searching his face. Draco gulped, even in such a vague form, her face was just as beautiful and motherly as he remembered._ He missed her_. "What's wrong? Did something happen? I didn't get your mail- is everything alright?"

"Maybe not everything but I'm good, mum." He answered, finding his wits from somewhere. He sat at the edge of the sofa and looked at his mother's blinking, uncomprehending face. "I need you to do me a favor, mum."

"Anything for you, dear." She said automatically, eyes filled with confusion and worry. "What is it?"

"I need you to contact Aunt Andromeda." Draco paused to see his mother's face go through lots of internal emotions and settle on shock. "We need her, mum."

"Why would you-" his mother sputtered, eyes flashing angrily for a moment.

"Because, sooner or later, father will find out and I will be disowned." Draco raised his voice a volume or so louder.

"No, he won't, dear." his mother denied vehemently and blinked, squinting at Draco's face. "And what will he find out?" she seemed to be cautious, afraid if she found out something worse about him, she wouldn't be able to take it.

"That I'm not going to join the Death Eaters this time."

"That's-"

"Father will not have it if I deny his Master."

"He won't force you! And the Dark Lord is dead-"

"Oh, please." Draco scoffed. "You know _he_ is returning, you can feel it. I want this madness to stop but apparently, it won't so I'll just say this now: I won't listen to father's demands anymore."

"What demands? Lucius has always taken care to cater to your every wish-"

"But what does he want in return, mother? Who is the most important in this world to him? He's always been fantastical about the idea of Dark Lord, though I hardly think he can handle it when _he_ finally stands before him. You think this is going to end wisely?"

"Well, I..." Narcissa stopped, and looked deeply into Draco's eyes. "What happened, Draco? Why the sudden change of heart? You used to idiolise your father in such a way that even I found it worrying. I'm glad that you're finding yourself but, I can't accept that what you're saying is truly genuine."

Draco stared back at her and spoke, voice barely audible but still loud enough for her to hear: "You're right. I will always love father. You know that, mum. But I- It's not just that I'm not joining his side." His hands shook as he pressed them together. "It's that I will be joining the other side."

Narcissa's shock reached new heights and her voice was weak as she gasped. "Draco!"

Draco gave her an ironic smile. "Yes, mother. I am going to be a blood-traitor. Am, really."

She glared at him. "You will not! What are you thinking? You're just a boy! How do you know what you want? I don't know what kind-of phase you're going through but your father-!" she froze, looking scared to even say it.

"Father won't forgive me." Draco finished sadly. "He'll disown me."

"You can't do this, Draco." His mother pleaded, suddenly looking very distraught. "You shouldn't have to. I'll talk to Lucius if he suspects anything but you're just a kid, you don't know anything."

_I know more than you do, mum. _Draco bit off the words and looked away, silent.

He opened his mouth, finding his voice somewhere in the tumultuous thoughts again. "I only called to make sure I have somewhere to go. If and when Father disowns me, I will need my possessions."

"Your-"

"Yes. My wand, my robes, my gifts." Draco listed. "Surely, you don't want me to be stripped off the things I have been given."

Narcissa shook her head in despair. "You said if?" she asked hopefully.

"If. I have reasons to suspect that a certain journalist will print my name and Potter's in some half-true story. I don't want to take risks, that's why I called you."

"And you want me to call the dead sister I haven't contacted for years?"

"Mother." Draco knew what he was asking his mother and felt troubled that he had to but he could not rely on anyone else. And there was a registration alert to every fire-call that went and came at Hogwarts. He didn't the ministry to know Serverus Snape called Andromeda Tonks some day. For what reason would Snape have any acquaintance with a Blood traitor? "I know you believe in the Pure blood-line like father does, but she is your sister and I am your son."

Narcissa was quiet, deciding.

And then, with a defeated exhale of breath, she mumbled: "Alright."

Draco didn't feel any victory in the end and wondered why his bones felt heavier than they had been before.

-0-

"Dear, what're you doing here?" Madam Pomfrey asked as he entered. He gave her a painful smile and grabbed at his head.

"My head hurts. I think I need some rest." He explained.

She blinked and nodded. "Yes, yes, please do. You do look a bit pale."

_I'm always pale. _He didn't answer and just nodded back at her, looking thankful and internally sighing in relief as his back hit the bed and he lay there. After lessons, he just didn't have the strength to go to the Slytherin dorm, knowing that it would be noisy still. It was after the last lesson that his head just couldn't take it anymore and he rushed for the Hospital wing. His head on the pillow and shoes off near the bed, he closed his eyes. It was uncomfortable and he probably wouldn't be able to sleep.

For a long time, he just had his eyes closed but mind awake and very much conscious. It was a restless slumber but he couldn't open his eyes, it was too hard to even move a muscle so he stayed there.

And then, some moments later, the curtain to his bed opened, causing a disturbance to his perturbed sleep. He blinked his eyes open and blinked again for good measure because there stood before him Harry Potter himself. As if coming out of a dream, except in a dream, he would give Draco this smoldering look that hid all the want and lust and then, he would kiss Draco raw.

That's what Draco wanted Potter to do and it took every minuscule part of his brain to control himself from groaning and whining about the unfairness of the world in general.

His bed creaked as he sat up on his elbows, staring at Potter with a confused frown. "Potter?"

"What are you doing here?" Potter demanded, looking angry. Draco was too tired for Potter's anger and groaned aloud, slumping back to his bed and turning over to cover his ears. "Malfoy! Hey." Potter came near his bed, his profile hovering over Draco's bed. "Malfoy."

"Where is Madam Pomfrey?" asked Draco with a groan, a palm slapped across his eyes.

"She's... sleeping, I think." Potter informed, looking around sneakily. Now that Draco noticed, it was dark out and Potter was wearing his Invisibility cloak. "Hey! Don't change the subject."

"What was the subject from the beginning?" Draco mumbled in his pillow sleepily.

"That you promised to tell me all about what happened at the Yule Ball and now, you're avoiding me." explained Potter in a very furious manner.

"I'm not avoiding you." Draco really wasn't. He looked up to regard Potter with squinted eyes. "I just have things to do."

Potter's eye ticked before he glared balefully at Draco. "With Snape?"

Draco was reminded again why Potter was such a brat and he glared back at Potter. "Nosy, aren't you? Yes, with Snape. I had some things to do and they're none of your business." he practiced a yawn and raised a brow at Potter. "Why couldn't you wait like a good little Hufflepuff?"

Potter huffed. "Because it's been three days already."

"Meaning, you're impatient." Draco pointed out.

"No, I'm not." Potter denied, bemused.

"Fine. You're not." Draco surrendered defeat and feeling the strain in his bones, griped suddenly: "I'm so tired."

"How long have you been sleeping?" Potter questioned, looking carefully at Draco.

"Apparently, long enough for night to befall us." Draco couldn't help but say and added: "Potter, what is it that you want to know exactly? And what would you be willing to give to get answers?"

"To give? What?" Potter was befuddled. Understandable.

"If I've to remind you, then I will: I've given you information like a good little boy and you, selfish Gryffindor that you are, have taken only and not given anything in return." He complained, pouting and narrowing his eyes at Potter. "I may be a masochist but I don't like when things are taken from me and I don't get anything from it." it must be the sleepy haze that was making his mouth move on without hesitation because it wasn't like Draco to bemoan about his fate at all.

Well, actually, it was exactly like him.

Potter seemed to be choking on his words and his eyes had bulged out. "Ma- what?" Potter couldn't even finish the word, what a pansy.

Draco snickered. "You're such a prude."

Potter's eyes narrowed immediately. "Fine." he accepted, looking stubborn. "What do you want in return?"

Before he could think about the consequences of his actions, his mouth was already moving in a childishly, sleepy fashion. "Want tah snuggle." he mumbled softly.

"What?" Potter hadn't heard him. Completely understandable.

"Want to snuggle." He said more clearly though, he still tried to look sluggish so as to blame sleepiness for his inadequateness.

"To snuggle what?" sputtered Potter.

Draco was starting to get a litte ticked off with Potter's slow brain and gave him a dirty look. "You, of course, you stupid Gryffindor."

"Me what?" Potter was clearly deaf or inept. Draco choose he was the latter and whined through his throat. He had always been very good at whining.

"Potter, get over here now or I swear, I will hex you to a fungus and I know that spell, don't think I don't!" He threatened.

Potter was giving him a strange look now and stepped closer hesitantly. "Er." he surveyed Draco with screwed up eyes. "And you'll tell me everything I want to know?"

"Not everything, Potter. Not everyone knows everything about anyone's questions." Wow, he really must be sleepy to be babbling like this. "However, you're stupid and nosy and stupid so your questions will probably be stupid so just go on and ask already. Oh and snuggle me."

"Are you a kid?" Potter asked a good question. Draco was from the future, and... _this was so totally like him_, he felt like he was coming home.

Draco gave a slurred grin and opened up his arms. "Come ere'."

Potter stared at him, finally not looking like an oblivious fool. "Fine." He huffed and lifted his foot up, taking his shoes off before he came to lie next to Draco. He was uncomfortable, Draco could tell as he was still wearing his glasses, and his uniform but Draco hated awkwardness at the moment and moved close to Potter in the tiny bed, arms going around Potter's clothed shoulders and resting at his back.

Even with so many clothes on and such a tiny space, with Potter's cheek pressed against his, Draco felt the beginnings of relaxation. He mumbled vaguely in pleasure (purred, more like) and with palms resting on Potter's back, asked: "What do you want to know?"

-0-

All he remembered from his sleepy conversation with Potter was the feel of that warm body pressed against his. He remembered the hot breaths that passed over his cheek or ear by accident, he remembered the way Potter hesitated at the first ten to thirteen minutes of lying next to him before his hands rested on Draco's waist, he remembered the way he spoke breathily on the bare skin where Potter's neck met his collarbone and he remembered the way that during mumbling some answer, his eyes fell shut in drowsiness and he fell asleep in Potter's arms.

When Draco woke up the next day, it was still dark out but he knew it was close to morning. Potter was gone and left a cold, weighty feeling in his chest.

Draco grinned. _Now, try and resist me, stupid Gryffindor._

With his feet landing on the marble floor, a new type of strength goaded him on and he smiled all the way to his journey to the Slytherin dormitory.


	16. Part I, chapter sixteen: Shifted future

**Title**: For the First time

**Author**: Mabu  
**Rating:** NC-17  
**Genre:** Romance, Angst, Humor, Adult, Violence.  
**Disclaimer**: Property of JK Rowling. Quotes from the book may be repeated in here since time is turning.  
**Warning**: Fate. POV change.  
**Author's note: **

* * *

**Chapter sixteen:**

**Shifted future**

* * *

"Is Snape a Death Eater?" was Harry's first question at that night where he lay right next to Malfoy, and tried to find answers from a sleepy Slytherin. Harry had known that Malfoy was keeping his mouth sealed to a lot of things and he knew this was one of those questions that he could not answer unless he was in a drunken, dreamy state. Well, Malfoy may not be drunk but he was dreamy alright. After his arms wound around Harry, he seemed to purr with contentment and nothing seemed so hard to find anymore.

Malfoy exhaled with his mouth on Harry's shoulder, and seemed to grasp restlessly at Harry's back. "Snape," The Slytherin started in a lost tone, mouth moving soundlessly. Harry could feel the hot breaths dispersed on his shoulder and fought not to squirm. "Severus isn't the bad guy. He- He's a kind and brave person. He's amazing to have found strength after such a- such a-"

"Such a?" Harry goaded him on. Malfoy seemed to be talking in a roundabout way but it was better than sitting around, knowing nothing.

Malfoy detached his mouth from Harry's shoulder and pulled his face until it was facing Harry's directly. "We don't have a say in what we choose, Potter. Severus was just another one of those victims-" Harry's eyebrow twitched. "-who wanted purity in the wizarding race and of course, that's what half of them did. I- Severus didn't have a choice and that's why, Dumbledore trusts him and I trust him. Because he's made amends for taking the Mark and I- I pushed him away."

Harry couldn't get half the things Malfoy was saying but in all the confused jumble, Malfoy had revealed that Snape was a Death Eater, he had taken the Dark Mark. After Malfoy's revelation about the Dark Mark, Hermione had filled him in on what it really was and Ron had admitted reluctantly that Malfoy knew half of it more than they did. Why, nobody seemed to be bothered to ask but now, Harry wondered if it was something they needed to focus on. Malfoy's appearance this fourth year almost seemed wistful than taunting and it was making him uneasy. Something was not normal and that was another one of the reasons why he had to find Malfoy for answers. Also, he _was_ impatient to know more about Malfoy and the Death Eaters. Anyone would if their life and blood was in hazardous danger.

Harry licked his lips, eyes averted from the direct face-to-face gaze Malfoy had made them abide to. "What about others? Are there any other former Death Eaters in Hogwarts that I should be aware of?"

Malfoy's eyelids fell half-shut, only a crack through displayed his glazed grey eyes. "Not in Hogwarts, no. But in the Ministry? Yes, there are others."

"Ministry?" Harry felt his heart beating fast in excitement as he looked down into Malfoy's eyes. Now, they were getting somewhere. "Who?"

Malfoy chuckled drowsily, "Potter, you wouldn't remember half the names if I told you." Harry blinked.

"How many are there?" Harry whispered, searching Malfoy's half-dazed face for answers.

Malfoy had a drunken smile on his face, "You think I can count them all?" he asked rhetorically before he shook his head. "First person you need not come in contact with is Dolores Umbridge. The woman's a cant, I tell you." Harry didn't know know the person but took the name at the back of his mind, ready to research about the person when he was out and about.

"Do you know them because of your father?" blurted Harry. He supposed Malfoy was too sleep-induced to care about the question.

Malfoy didn't tense as if to recoil, he just eyed Harry's shirt with constant blinking. "My father didn't associate with former Death Eaters in fear of being found suspicious." He licked his lips and moved forward until he was hugging Harry again. "And Dolores Umbridge is just a woman I don't exactly care about. She's someone _you_ won't like. I liked her very much actually. She seemed to bring a new shine to the word: torturer." Harry twitched, he didn't know if Malfoy was being sarcastic or serious but he still felt like hitting him in the head. Except, his one hand was stuck on Malfoy's side and the other was still temporarily hesitating in its decision to rest on Malfoy's waist or not. Harry made the decision and his other hand came up to cup Malfoy's waist. "Have you ever met someone who was so sweet, it was almost nauseous? She's one of those pure-bloods who may not be taking part as a Death Eater but she is far worse. She doesn't think too well of half-breeds or Muggle-borns."

"Oh." Harry wondered what she did to Malfoy to make him so passionate about the topic even when he was almost unconscious. "Is there anyone else?"

Malfoy sighed. "Potter, I fear you'd have to worry about everyone in that Ministry, except some, special ones. If they're not even in full support of Voldemort, they may still not like you personally or they might have been under Imperius Curse. You can't believe anything in this world, it's all a lie. You'd do well to remember that." the murmur of Malfoy's voice reached Harry's ear in soft breaths and he shivered despite himself. He didn't fail to notice that Malfoy had called Voldemort by his, generally, intimidating name.

"What will happen if Voldemort comes back?" Harry asked the question he needed the answer to most and Malfoy looked as if he could pass out any second.

"Comes back." Malfoy repeated softly before he snorted. "He'll gather an army, Potter. He'll keep a low profile until he has enough power by his hands like the first time. He'll convince giants, werewolves-" at the name, Harry twitched again. "-and every other breed that felt like fighting wizards because they were treated unfairly. And all this will come back to us in a karma of sorts. To torture our family, murder them, and curse them until what's left is just a little portion of ourselves, beginning to see that the fight is harder because we have not been prepared."

"We're not?" Harry asked. He thought the real Mad-Eye Moody's lessons since he returned were helpful to prepare them for a battle. The real Mad-Eye was just as aggressively paranoid as Barty Crouch Jr. had been.

"The Ministry, Potter. Not you or the fucking students." Malfoy mumbled before he sighed once again and his eyes fell shut all the way and he was fast asleep already.

"Malfoy? Malfoy." Harry tried to call but the boy seemed to have been done with questions and answers since even as Harry shook him and moved him so that Harry had some space, Malfoy didn't seem to even notice. He was asleep and Harry stared at the completely unguarded, and open face in front of him in wonder. Before when Malfoy was half-asleep, Harry had seen the same type of expression but now, he could look unabashed at the soft features on Malfoy's face. Malfoy looked almost like his female self, hair fluffed around him and his breathing even and slow, chest moving delicately up and down. He seemed so different. While Harry had been disconcerted by all his confrontations with Malfoy this year, it was most unusual to see a person you hated for three years in such a position.

Harry found that day that Malfoy was just like them.

-0-

Surprisingly, Skeeter had not mentioned Draco's part in the _Daily Prophet _a few weeks later, but she did mention Potter. Not exactly from the Yule Ball, but his overall history. He remembered the same type of article coming out when Potter had actually been involved in the Tri-wizard tournament and wondered how and when Skeeter had tried to interview him. It was still the same biased assumptions about Potter's attention-seeking tendencies and how he very much missed his parents. Draco studied the picture of Potter on the front page where the boy winced at the flash of light and frowned.

"Well, seems like your days of fame have gone to dash." Queenie said in mock-sympathy. "Potter's gone and stolen the lime-light from you again." Draco looked up, unaware of the fact that his mouth had lifted up into an adoring smile while staring at the newspaper. Queenie blinked owlishly.

"Are you smiling?" she asked doubtfully. All of the Slytherins sitting around him looked straight at Draco, who had in the meantime changed his expression to one of contempt.

"Queenie, you're obviously going blind." He commented rudely. She raised her brows. "Why would I _smile_?"

"I don't know, Draco. Why would you?" she countered, looking dearly interested.

Crossing his arms, he elegantly quirked a brow. "I wasn't and that's the end of it. Now-" He turned to Pansy who was examining his face for signs. "Who was this Lord that you met last time you went to Italy again?"

Pansy's eyes lightened up. "Oh, Lord Jeremiah!" she turned to Queenie excitedly. "He's from Africa and he was taking a tour. And oh my god, he was hot!"

"How hot?" Queenie asked, her interest perking up at the mention of a good-looking bloke.

"Thrice as hot as Draco." Pansy exclaimed.

Draco's eyebrow twitched.

"Thrice?" Queenie's eyes widened and then, she was a goner. Her attention was completely taken in by this 'Lord Jeremiah'. Draco was satisfied enough that he let Pansy go for her very offending comment.

_Hotter than me? Hah! _

Draco thought vehemently and fumed at the table. This was three days before Valentine's Day. He regretted ever thinking like that.

-0-

It was on the fourteenth of February that Draco woke up to chaos and disaster. Back then, in the many years he had spent in Hogwarts studying and being a complete bully, never had his room been so full of Valentine hearts and gifts than, it was when he opened his eyes and found his dorm-mates running away from some of the stinging hearts. They were all floating around him as he surveyed the mess his dorm was in.

"Draco! Stop this." cried Zabini as some giggling Heart bounced over his head and he grabbed at his head in pain.

Draco blinked, still a bit sleepy and rubbed at his eyes. "Who in the goddamn hell sent all this?" He asked groggily.

"I don't know. But they're all for you." Zabini exclaimed and very bravely, rushed away from the five Hearts following him and out of the room. Draco watched as Crabbe and Goyle watched from Crabbe's bed for some of the potential Heart's attack fearfully.

"Why are the Hearts attacking you?" Draco demanded, getting up from his bed abruptly and watched as some Hearts came to swirl around his head. He blinked, trying not to get a headache from all the circling around they were doing.

"We- We think it's because they aren't for us, Boss." Goyle answered, his voice shaking. Crabbe nodded from beside him and they both ducked as another Heart came to sting them. They yelped when it caught them despite their hiding place and together, they stood up and ran out of the room, crying.

Draco frowned at all the gifts on the ground, surrounding his bed and wondered if all these were from Slytherin girls. He could identify the distinct ones from his friends but didn't dare touch any of them. Scowling at the mess before him, he walked away from the room furiously and reached the bathroom. The Hearts had followed him here too.

"Oh, for merlin's sake." Draco said and turned to blast them all away with his wand. "Go away!"

As he got rid of five, five more came to replace them.

-0-

"Slut." spat one boy, glaring at Draco that afternoon and walked away with a scowl on his face. The girl that was accompanying him apologized profusely and ran off to where the boy went.

Draco, who had done nothing but snog a few boys publicly before, felt that the hatred was undeserved. Well, if he had fucked another bloke's girlfriend, that would make him think: 'Yeah, I kind-of deserved that.' But this? Draco felt the beginnings of a very bad mood and was able to brush it off somehow.

He had been getting all kinds of attention this day: the boys who were expecting their girls to pay them attention and the girls who were paying attention to Draco instead. His teachers were sick of all the idiotic gifts that kept bursting out of thin air and were glaring at Draco instead of the giggling fan-girls sniggering behind his back. Filch had given Draco a dirty look when the corridors had been filled with balloon Hearts. Peeves were peeved.

And the Golden Trio were giving Draco the smug amusement that he really didn't need right now.

"I just want this day to end." Draco muttered to Pansy as he hid in the common room for the rest of the day. "I don't understand. I thought they had given up on me! Look at Potter, he needs the attention! He's obviously attention-starved. Why me? and who the heck created those horrible Hearts?"

"I think it was the Weasley twins." Zabini answered Draco's last exclaimed inquiry from the sofa opposite their love-seat. "I saw them collecting money from a lot of students today."

"Weasley twins..." Draco grimaced. "Great. I knew they would do something horrible against me."

"Well, it wasn't that bad." Zabini grumbled. "For you, that is. At least, the Hearts didn't do anything but follow you around. I have welts on my back, arm, face, and other places I won't mention."

Pansy gave him a sympathetic look and then, turned to half-heartedly glare at Draco. "I'm jealous. I didn't even get as many as you did."

"I'm jealous of me too. I'm so beautiful, it's infuriating." Draco commented sarcastically.

Pansy stared at him. "Draco."

Draco sighed a long-suffering exhale and slumped into the cushions of their sofa. "It doesn't matter! I haven't got his attention so all this doesn't matter."

"Whose?" Pansy asked, confused while Zabini looked understanding, his eyes almost sympathetic.

Draco didn't even deign that question an answer and walked off to his dorm room. The House-Elves must have gotten rid of all the unnecessary gifts and Draco really was in no mood to stay awake in this nauseatingly sweet and lovable day.

So, he went to sleep early. At least, it took care of his headache.

-0-

Pansy had dragged Draco to watch the Second Task of the Tri-Wizard tournament by the lake at twenty-forth of February, insisting that he was being 'no fun' lately. Draco thought it was his right to sulk or be boring if he wanted but, didn't argue after he saw the champions standing before the lake, waiting for the whistle to begin as Ludo Bagman's _sonorus_ voice echoed through to the stands:

"All our champions are ready for the second task, which will start on my whistle. They have precisely an hour to recover what has been taken from them. On the count of three, then. One... Two... Three!"

Pansy winced by his side as the whistle blew loudly but Draco hardly blinked. There was something wrong with the picture of three students diving in the lake, instead of four. Perhaps, that was why Draco didn't feel like watching the Tasks himself. His eyebrows furrowed as he glanced to the side, searching and found Potter and Weasley standing with their Gryffindor friends (Granger was missing, meaning she was still the person Krum had to bring back from the merpeople).

Draco could hear the incessant and excited chatter filling around him as the champions vanished from sight and the audience remained on looking at the lake in anticipation as if they would come out any moment. They didn't have to wait long because after thirty or so minutes, Fleur Delacour returned injured and empty-handed.

With towels gathered around her freezing body, she sobbed while the audience watched sympathetically.

Draco remembered. Potter had saved Fleur's sister in the process of recovering Ron Weasley from the merpeople. How he had done it with those freakish-looking merpeople threatening murder at him, Draco could never guess but he knew stupid bravery when he saw it. And Potter was worse than every single one of the Gryffindors.

Some time later, Cedric Diggory splashed out with Cho Chang at his side and Draco could see that bothered Potter. He watched dispassionately as Krum came next with Granger and they all stood at the shore, covered in towels and trembling in chilly coldness.

He saw Dumbledore talk in Mermish with the merpeople and still, felt nothing except that feeling of wrongness when Dumbledore announced the champion's points. Diggory got the most points this time and this way, Krum and Diggory were head-on while Fleur fell back behind. Karkaroff was immensely happy in the side-lines, clapping hard when Krum's points were announced. Unbeknownst to him, there was one thing he failed to observe and pay attention to. Percy Weasley, who had been smugly sitting back at the Judge's panel the last time was still there (meaning his fight to resist the inevitable future hadn't changed much), taking place of Mr. Crouch's place as the fifth judge.

"Why would Krum chose that Mud-blood as his treasured person?" asked Pansy, disgruntled. Her voice pulled Draco out of his staring at the champions and he looked her way. She was glaring at where Granger and Krum sat together, chatting with each other amiably. Draco couldn't help but watch as Weasley's expression was much the same as Pansy's.

"Pansy, you don't like Krum, do you?" Draco asked, extremely disturbed.

Pansy looked disgusted. "Of course not. You know I don't. I just wish I had my own savior to save me from the clutches of merpeople. It would be so romantic."

Queenie nodded from somewhere. "It would be!"

Draco frowned painfully at the idea of Potter saving Weasley and how that type of thing would be considered romantic. _Treasured person, my left foot_.

A cry came from near the lake, waking him up from his jealousy: "Gabrielle!" Fleur was running towards her sister as the girl was handed to her by the merpeople themselves. "_Oh, thank god. Thank god!_" Fleur said in french in her happiness as Gabrielle's eyes opened blearily and both sisters had their touching reunion. Dumbledore murmured something assuring to her as she hugged her sister for dear life and Draco thought he saw some students tearing up at the audience. Disturbed by Crabbe's sniff and feeling pity for Fleur, Draco turned and walked away.

_"You'll make it worse."_

Draco couldn't keep the voice from echoing in his head as he returned to the Slytherin dorms.

-0-

Harry had been told about Mr. Crouch and his son's history by Sirius a few months ago and Dumbledore had told him that Mr. Crouch had been caught in an Imperius Curse when he was found after the arrest of his son, locked in his house. The man had been pulled out of the curse but had been in quite a state. Dumbledore had informed Harry and his friends that it was Crouch's proclamations about being controlled by Voldemort himself that had made them, at first, suspicious. Then, there were other resources- which Hermione concluded was Draco Malfoy- that the old wizard didn't seem likely to mention. After knowing such things, Harry and his friends had decided to take extra lessons. At that time, Mad-Eye Moody had returned from St. Mungo's and to repay Dumbledore and suspicious about the "evil" occurring in Hogwarts, had agreed to be the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher for the rest of the year.

He had told them he didn't exactly feel like being a teacher as he thought it was a waste of time. He found the idea of educating theories entirely tiresome and that's why, every lesson was practical until a parent filed a complaint that the lessons were entirely too dangerous and seemed to say: "We don't think the students even need these lessons. It's not like half of them are even going to fight in a battle."

This was quoted grumpily at one of the extra lessons they had with Mad-Eye Moody by him. The ex-Auror seemed excited when Harry and the others came to him for some practical lessons. He vigorously taught them while complaining and griping about the Board being 'ignorant fools'.

Hermione who had been reading the_ Daily Prophet_ more since those days had told them that it seemed Mr. Crouch was called insane for his proclamations and had resigned from his job at the Ministry for health reasons. The real idea was that, Sirius had said in his letter, people were too scared to admit to themselves that Voldemort could show up and so, Crouch was sent to St. Mungo's Mental Ward to be treated. After Malfoy's half-dazed answers that night, Harry knew he couldn't trust the Ministry anymore and that, they had to do something before anyone else.

Winky had been worried to death when they had told her what happened to Mr. Crouch. She seemed to cry waterfalls and look at Crouch's small picture in the newspaper with sad eyes and then, she would hit herself against the wall multiple times. Dobby seemed to comfort her with Hermione joining in, but she vehemently denied any comfort until one day, she vanished.

"I'm worried. She couldn't have gone very far with the anti-apparation or she must have left-" Hermione had said, as they had been informed by Dobby a while ago that Winky had seemed to give up hope on having a job at Hogwarts and fled before he could stop her. "Where could she be gone? Not St. Mungo's, I hope. They don't treat House-Elves nicely by what I know. I don't even think there's House-Elves allowed there."

Ron patted her shoulder, giving Harry a roll of his eyes while looking innocently when Hermione glanced behind at him.

"It'll be alright, Mione'. It's not like she has anywhere to go. Maybe, she'll return." Ron had said.

And Winky had returned, with a new look in her eyes.

Harry had seen her in the corner of a dark corridor when he had been roaming around under his Invisibility cloak after midnight. Sometimes, he just liked to walk around the corridors when he couldn't sleep. It was one of those nights when he found her.

She was standing still, looking through a wide pane of opening where the moon was shining through the clouds and Harry wondered about Lupin for a moment, wondering how he was.

He took of his cloak as he reached her, keeping his movements slow and muted. Winky turned halfway to look at him as he revealed himself and didn't seem surprised at all.

"Master used to have that cloak." Winky murmured and Harry noticed the new look in her eyes, as she looked up at him with a new perseverance and Harry wondered why she had that look.

"Hermione's been worried about you." he said, kneeling in front of her and trying to smile kindly.

She stared at him. "Yes. That girl." she paused and then, said slowly: "Winky has something to give her. Winky hopes Harry Potter returns it to her."

Harry stared and nodded, confused. "Okay, what is it?"

Winky reached into the dirty cloth that covered her body and pulled out a bracelet with antique blocks. Harry had to wonder where she got it from.

"Did you meet Mr. Crouch?" he asked skeptically. Her hand shook as she was turning to hand it over to him. Her mouth quivered as she trembled where she stood.

"Master not want Winky no more." the house-elf said, looking so terribly miserable that Harry grabbed at her hand to comfort. The hand that grasped the bracelet.

Next thing he knew, somewhere behind his navel a hook had taken place and he was vanishing from the corridors of Hogwarts, catching a final glimpse of Winky as she backed away from him with sad eyes.

"Winky is sorry." he thought he heard her but then, he didn't have to think anymore because he was, inevitably, in Little Hangleton where Voldemort much awaited his presence.


	17. Part I, chapter seventeen: Fate

**Title**: For the First time

**Author**: Mabu  
**Rating:** NC-17  
**Genre:** Romance, Angst, Humor, Adult, Violence.  
**Disclaimer**: Property of JK Rowling. Quotes from the book may be repeated in here since time is turning.  
**Warning**:  
**Author's note: **This is second to last chapter to Part I. I hope I didn't disappoint everyone with my lack of fussing on adventure. Did I do something wrong? I hope not. Anyway, enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter seventeen:**

**Irreversible Fate**

* * *

Harry Potter's presence vanished from the castle at 2:49 am, midnight; a corridor close to the Gryffindor Tower. He had been dressed in pajamas, had his wand with him, and at the last moment, was able to keep the Invisible Cloak with him while portkeying to another, unknown place. His friend, Ronald Weasley had woken up some minutes later as his abrupt nightmare ended and he looked around the dorm to blink down at the bed his friend was inadvertently not sleeping on. Ron knew about Harry's random habits of going out to walk the corridors when he felt like taking a fresh air so he only squinted at the clock and lay back to bed, already falling into unconsciousness.

There were two portraits around that had been woken up by a _lumos_ and had watched the scene unfold quietly. One knew the signature of portkeys and turned so she was telling every portrait in the array of what she saw. But first, she had to wake them up. The other departed and went for Dumbledore' office. She had recognized the boy in the dark; she couldn't have misplaced those messy hairs and that voice: It was Harry Potter.

Dumbledore, who had come back from a meeting with his brother at 2:35 am, had been sitting at his office, chatting with some of the portraits about politics and what-not (not yet decided if he would sleep or not). He had noticed a particular ZAP in the air of the castle like he sometimes seemed to sense when he was concentrating enough on the magic as a whole of the school instead of just the noises student's presence made in the corridors at day. When it was night, everyone was quiet and every student's or staff's magic was at its minimum limit. So, there could be only so few reasons for such a commotion. Dumbledore stood up and turned to walk out, to see what the commotion was about. He was uneasy about the atmosphere and assured himself that nothing was genuinely wrong. But at the last moment, a portrait came through to chat with the portraits in his office. And he got the message loud and clear.

Harry Potter had been transported mysteriously, against his will, in the middle of the night.

Draco Malfoy, who had sworn to himself that he would save Harry Potter his innocence and keep him from any potential harm had, out of sheer desperation and nervousness, asked Bloody Baron to keep an eye for any potential harm coming to the Boy-Who-Lived. Bloody Baron, who was a Slytherin ghost didn't seem to have appreciated the idea that he should save anyone, let alone a Gryffindor savior. Draco still had tried to be reasonable and had lured him in, as last, by the temptation of having what he wanted most. Bloody Baron had reluctantly agreed but thought he would never even have the chance to do such a thing since the walls of Hogwarts were safe.

Draco knew better than Bloody Baron did, though. He realised that any moment, anytime, betrayers lurked in the corner of every dark hallway. It was only a matter of how paranoid he was willing to be. Of course, he had also told Moaning Myrtle to take care to watch over Potter once in a while. Myrtle seemed to sniff and accept that what Draco was asking wasn't too bad. She was making a tour through the dungeons like she did when it was dark and everybody was sleeping, except a few naughty ones, when she met Bloody Baron on the way. Baron had some news for Draco.

Winky was terrified out of her wits as she watched the space Harry Potter had occupied just minutes before. She looked at it in fear, nervousness, and felt no better than before. She pulled herself at one corner, already regretting her decision and wondered if anybody could help. She didn't know where the portkey led but the more she thought about it, the more paranoid she became about the consequences. She never got the opportunity to meet her Master at St. Mungo's because she hadn't known that Mr. Crouch had been there (she may have seen the newspaper but hadn't known exactly what it entailed). She had traveled directly to the door of Mr. Crouch's house in her pitiful, self-doubting sorrow but Aurors were around and Winky knew better than to show herself. She hid and watched them from the bushes, concealing herself and then, something had grabbed her and yanked her back.

It was a powerful wizard that Winky knew at once as Mr. Malfoy, Dobby's former Master and she bowed before him, her figure bend in half and more. The blond-haired, pure-blooded man stared at her, sneering.

"What good will you for the Dark Lord, I wonder?" Lucius had asked in disdain. Lucius Malfoy had been contacted by the Dark Lord after the attempt Barty Crouch Jr. had failed. The Dark Lord had been angry enough that the Dark Mark that had long since faded and forgotten into his skin had burned intensely and Lucius knew that he had to respond or he would die.

'To make up for your failures.' the Dark Lord had murmured when he approached the place at Little Hangleton. Lucius had found the place too disgusting for his taste and had invitingly asked his Master to go to a more suitable and luxurious location than this one. Voldemort had agreed and added if Lucius would be willing to give up his home for the location. Lucius had been too stunned and humbly composed a reply that he would be welcome anytime. He would be sure of that.

'Yes, that would be... sufficient. But you need not be worried for now. I want to keep my identity a secret. As you can see, I am weak.'

Weak, he may be but he was still as powerful and dangerously intimidating than he had been when he had his whole body. Either way, Lucius would always serve the Dark Lord and found no other way out of it.

His job had been small, as if the Dark Lord didn't think he was capable of anything anymore after his failure to do that Weasley's daughter in. He was ordered to give Winky, a House-Elf serving at Hogwarts and with minimal contact with Harry Potter, a bracelet that was a portkey, activated only by Potter's touch. The Tri-wizard trophy that had been the portkey before had been assessed and the Aurors inspecting the mess after Barty Crouch Jr. had removed it and returned it to it's normal state.

Winky had already been fearful enough of Lucius and then, Lucius made her a promise. A promise she could not refuse.

"I will help find your Master and return him to you. Your Master will be unharmed. The only thing you have to do is this." he held out the bracelet and stared at her, his eyes fierce and convincing. Winky had whimpered, shook but in the end, had accepted after she was explained what she had to do. It sounded so easy, she only had to make Harry Potter touch the bracelet. She should have been suspicious, she knew about the mechanics of portkeys but had been too eager to get back to her Master's side that she hadn't wondered.

Until Harry Potter vanished before her. Then, she knew she had made the wrong decision.

-0-

"Psst, Draco. Psst. Draco!" a female, whining voice kept nagging at the back of his mind. Draco, who had been having quite a slumber, furrowed his brows in irritation and swatted up at the person shouting in his ear. When his hand touched nothing when he thought he should have touched something because he knew some person was hovering over him, he turned to the intruder to his dreams. Moaning Myrtle floated above him, her translucent eyes glaring over her glasses.

"Wha-"

"Potter's in trouble!" she shouted furiously.

Draco's eyes snapped open fully and he sat up, staring at her. "Where?" His heart was beating fast and he tried to calm it down by the assurance that surely, Myrtle was joking or exaggerating, at best.

"Well, that's the thing. Harry isn't in the castle." Myrtle said in her nasally tone. "His presence vanished just a while ago."

"Vanished?" Draco didn't exactly care about the other residents of his dorm starting to wake up because the panic was hitting him in the chest.

_Surely not..._

"Yes."

"How do you know about this?" Draco demanded, wanting to know a confirmation even as he got up and took his wand while making way for the door.

"Bloody Baron woke me up. Told me a portrait saw Harry lurking around, or at least she thought it was Harry. He was wearing an Invisibility Cloak but then, he took it off." she was saying as he quickly made his way out of the common room entrance, almost running as his heart beat faster than his footsteps. "And there was a House-Elf."

He snapped his head to her. "A House-Elf? What does a House-Elf have to do with it?"

"Apparently, she gave Harry a portkey." Myrtle answered. Draco felt sick in his stomach, his eyes stinging as they enlarged and then, lowered as he stopped running. "What's wrong? You have to go, Draco-" the ghost stopped when she saw a lone tear slide down his cheek. "Why're you cry-"

"He can't be dead. He's not dead." Draco repeated, to convince himself if not other. His breathing was shallow as he brusquely rubbed off the stray tear and started to run again. Myrtle followed just a few steps behind him, as he ran without looking back or asking anything. She frowned. What was his problem? Harry wasn't dead. Of course, he wasn't. She would know if he came to the after-life and even then, wouldn't that be just wonderful? Harry could join the after-life with her and they would both be ghosts together.

-0-

Dumbledore had found Winky, the new House-Elf on the corner and gave her a handkerchief as she looked up at him with large, wet eyes. He gently treated her, while waiting for Severus and Minerva to come (he had fire-called before leaving). As he talked to Winky, he found out how this happened and who was the instigator to the whole situation and even so, he believed he could not do anything unless he knew Harry's real location.

When there was a noise of approaching footsteps, he stood back and gave Winky an assuring smile that she would not be hurt. She hesitantly looked up at him and then, turned her head away in shame.

"Headmaster, what happened-" Minerva stopped as she reached them, saw the House-Elf crouching there. She blinked in surprise, she hadn't ever seen a House-Elf outside of their kitchens before now. She snapped her head to sharply gaze into the Headmaster's eyes and questioned: "Where is Potter?"

The twinkle in Dumbledore's eyes had vanquished, perhaps from the dark corridor or from the sadness of losing a student with so much strength and will, and a kind heart. Minerva's question couldn't be answered because just that moment, brisk footsteps sounded from the dark corridor. Severus Snape walked proudly, with his head high as he surveyed the mess before him with minimum emotion showing in his eyes. Following his approach came another unexpected presence. Dumbledore smiled as Draco Malfoy, panicked and looking beyond helpless ran towards the three teachers.

He stopped walking all of a sudden, noticing that they all stood there staring at him.

"Isn't it time for your curfew, Mr. Malfoy?" Minerva asked reproachfully, not knowing exactly why the boy was here. Young Malfoy ignored his teacher and walked past her, to the House-Elf that was cowering in the corner, looking fearfully up at them.

"Why'd you do it?" Malfoy inquired, forehead full of lamentable stress lines. "Where is he? Where did you take him?"

"I'm afraid we cannot help the circumstances, Mr. Malfoy." Dumbledore spoke, for he knew that the boy was going through a contradictory phase; one in which he would either come to hate a chosen scapegoat or would hate himself instead. "The House-Elf has told me that he was promised his Master would return under the condition that he give Mr. Potter the portkey."

"Winky did not know it was a p-portkey, sir. Winky is sorry. Winky is sorry." she started to hit herself with her hands, slapping continuously as Malfoy looked on in disbelief. Dumbledore knelt beside her, stopped her from harming herself in self-loathing.

"You are not at fault, Winky. It had to happen if it were to happen." Dumbledore assured her while also, giving Malfoy a portion of his advise.

Malfoy gulped. "Will he return?"

Severus quirked a brow at that. "Shouldn't you know the answer to that, Mr. Malfoy?"

Malfoy looked up, his eyes wide and panicked. "Yes, but Potter was with Diggory when it happened." Minerva was looking confusedly at the pair of them, startled and obviously wondering what was going on. "Who knows what happens without him there? I- I messed it all up."

"You must not blame yourself, Mr. Malfoy. That would defeat the purpose of your journey here, don't you think?" Dumbledore said.

Malfoy boy looked at him with his lips pinched up, the furrow between his brows lined with worry, and his fists clenched by his side. He looked just as ashamed as the House-Elf.

"I'm from the future!" He shouted, his voice hoarse and heart-breaking. "I could have helped him."

"Nobody can change a prophecy, Mr. Malfoy." Dumbledore informed sternly.

"But-!" the boy finally realised what Dumbledore had said and looked at him. "What?"

"Professor Trelawny has prophesied Voldemort's return."

Minerva gasped from the side, looking shocked and dumbstruck. "Albus!" she exclaimed, alarmed.

Dumbledore turned to her and gave a somber smile, knowing that he would have to let her know what she hadn't been informed of.

-0-

It was a long wait, included with guilt, panic, and shame. But the moment Potter relocated back in the castle, Draco rushed towards the boy who was kneeling there, panting and looking half-stricken with anger and fear. He had sweat beading down his face, his hair were messy, and dirt was patched up on his face and pajamas.

"Potter!" Draco didn't think twice about it, he couldn't have stopped even if some part of his brain had tried to reason against it; he grabbed Potter's head and let it lie on his shoulder. Potter went, complying and the warmth from his head on Draco's chest comforted him more than anything else could have. It wasn't Potter's life that was more at a threat this moment, it was Potter's fear and anger that Draco wanted to vanquish.

"How are you, Harry?" Dumbledore murmured from behind him. He was facing Potter so, Draco couldn't turn to see his face neither did he want to. Only the echo of _'Potter's okay. Potter's alive'_ made through his head and he let his head rest on Potter's shoulders while the two conversed.

"Malfoy." Potter finally spoke after a very brief and short conversation. Draco mourned the loss of Potter's warmth but took his head off its previous place and pulled away. He found he couldn't look into the dark-haired boy's eyes as they were at face-level again so, he turned around and stood with his back to Potter.

"If you would come with us, Mr. Malfoy." Dumbledore asked, gesturing in a inviting manner. Potter had stood to stand by Dumbledore's side and he was still looking shock-driven. Draco couldn't even try and imagine what he had seen and what had happened at the last moment to get him out of there.

"No, sir. I- I would like to leave." He requested, still looking at the ground.

"Well, if you would like that." Dumbledore's tone was disappointed but filled with that assurance that whatever he wanted, they could comply with. Since, it was his choice. Dumbledore had always put so much value on a person's choice and Draco didn't know if he appreciated it or detested it.

"No such thing." scoffed Severus, coming up to stand behind Draco. The boy turned to glance and found Snape glaring at him. "It would be better if you were not absent, Malfoy, since this includes you."

Draco felt alarmed at his wordings and took a step back. "Fine. I'll be there." He said to the Headmaster. Dumbledore nodded and led Potter to follow him while Draco stared beseechingly at Snape.

"What is it?" Snape questioned when Dumbledore, McGonnagall, and Potter vanished from sight.

"You can tell McGonnagall." Draco said with an edge in his voice. He was starting to feel a whole lot of righteous anger. "But don't you dare imply anything in front of Potter."

"Imply what? That you're involved in this as much as we are?"

"No." Draco closed his eyes out of sheer exhaustion. So, they weren't about to tell Potter _that_. "I forbid you from telling Potter why I'm involved." He opened his eyes and saw Snape raising a brow.

"Why not?" He challenged

Draco gave him a look of wide-eyed urgency. "You know why not! and anyway, it's my secret. I get to keep it the way I like." he knew he sounded childish but this was_ his_ to give. He wouldn't give his secret to someone like Potter that easily. Potter would have to find it himself if it came to that.

Because within the secret lay his heart.

-0-

"Lemon drop, Harry?" Dumbledore asked from his place. Harry had been watching as the sun dawned up at the sky from Dumbledore's office window and turned slowly to see Dumbledore smiling. Before he could answer, the door opened and admitted Malfoy and Snape both. Malfoy still kept his eyes on the ground, looking terribly afraid (as if he had demons inside him, waiting to haunt). "Now, that we're here." Dumbledore stood up. "Tell us what you saw, Harry?"

Harry gritted his teeth, clenching his fists as he thought about what he saw furious and they all looked at him, waiting. Only Malfoy couldn't look in his eyes and Harry had him to thank. How should he do that when the git wasn't even looking at him?

"I saw Voldemort." Dumbledore and Snape hardly blinked at the statement. Snape actually dared to look bored. Harry glared at him. "He wanted my blood, which Malfoy had already informed me about before. In great detail." he bit out, glaring at the blond head which was turned so that it wasn't facing him. "I knew once I saw Peter Pettigrew and my scar started hurting that Voldemort was there. I couldn't do anything against the pain at that moment and it left me lost. Pettigrew stole my wand and I was bound. Wormtail was ordered to take my blood in front of a cauldron and I knew I couldn't give it to him. But he took it. And now, Voldemort's back."

He couldn't help but feel it was his fault. His blood was the one needed to revive the evil wizard. Why couldn't he have been just a bit more cautious? Malfoy had told him and it was helpful that he knew because he did try to struggle and knew what he was doing, instead of being defeated and lost. But it still happened.

"How did you return, Harry?" Dumbledore questioned, looking calm and helpful. McGonnagall had her eyes widened, as if she couldn't believe. Snape was scratching at his left arm, at the inner wrist subtly but Harry knew why he was doing it. His conversation with Malfoy had given him that much incentive. But he also, remembered that Malfoy proclaimed Snape to be a 'kind' person. As hard as it was to not be disgusted by the mark that he had seen on Malfoy's father's arm as Voldemort came back, he knew he had to trust Malfoy.

The Slytherin seemed like a light in all that was dark. But he still wasn't looking at Harry.

"I had studied Portkeys, on one of Malfoy's suggestions." they had more than just one or two confrontations. There were brief moments when Malfoy would greet them at the library where they were helping Hermione research. He had told them to take a look at portkeys because it was important they knew. It had been an informative session since Hermione seemed convinced that whatever Malfoy suggested needed to be analysed. "So, I knew I could go back if it was activated on my touch. And I ran for it just as I got the chance to escape."

(_So, it was the same as before. _Draco thought_._)

He glanced at Winky as she came out of her hiding place, looking down and fidgeting nervously. "Harry Potter... Winky- Winky is sorry."

"It's not your fault." Harry told her, already a bit tired. He wanted to go back to sleep and he didn't want to either. It was a conflict that was brewing inside his mind and he gritted his teeth until his head hurt.

"Well then," Dumbledore stood. "Now, we know what happened."

"Albus." McGonnagall still could not erase the startled expression from her face.

"Malfoy- can I call you Draco?" asked Dumbledore gently to the Slytherin. Malfoy looked up and seeing his grey eyes was a relief Harry hadn't known he would feel until he was looking at them.

"Y-yes. Of course." Malfoy ducked his head again and Harry was starting to turn frustrated. What was his problem? He wasn't the one who had to go and see Voldemort come back to life. Why was he looking so horrified when Harry was the one who should be?

"Thank you. Now, Harry and Draco, you both should go and get some rest." said Dumbledore with a kind smile.

"But Headmaster-" Snape protested.

"Severus. We have to discuss this by ourselves before we ask any more questions."

Snape lowered his eyes in respect and set his jaw tight. "Yes, sir."

Dumbledore looked at the two students expectantly and Harry stood up slowly while Draco was already turning to leave. He realised that he was thinking of the boy as Draco, instead of Malfoy but after what he'd seen of his father, he couldn't bear to call the boy the same name.

They walked outside the office and Harry paused as Draco stopped walking in front of him. He looked at the boy's tightly strained back and walked a bit closer.

"Malfoy." He called. Yes, he would think of him as Draco but there were things he could hardly change in a spur of a moment. Malfoy took his slow time turning to face Harry and when he did, his face was stitched with pained defeat.

Harry blinked.

Then, suddenly, Malfoy's eyes started blazing. "Who told you to take that bracelet?"

Taken aback, Harry could only just stare at him.

Malfoy moved closer, glaring down at him with a very 'Hermione's pissed off' expression. He wasn't Hermione but he resembled his bossy friend that moment. "I warned you. I told you about everything I could in my own subtle way and you- what were you doing roaming around the corridors at night? Are you stupid? Have your brain-cells died and caved to your Gryffindor-ish idiocy? Are you really that inhumanly reckless? Potter, tell me. Because Merlin, I want to kill you this moment."

Harry already had an evil Dark Lord threatening to kill him so he just narrowed his eyes at the last line and decided to let it go, and instead, focused on the exasperation fuming off the boy.

"Why do you care?" He demanded.

Malfoy leaned in so their faces were close enough to touch. His grey eyes up close were sparkling now and he seemed more himself than Harry had seen in weeks.

Malfoy shook his head. "Oh no, you don't get to ask me questions when you just caused us all a heart attack. I swear if you-"

Harry couldn't take the patronizing tone Malfoy was using anymore and grabbed Malfoy's collar in fury as he remembered what he had to witness, and what he had been forced to give.

"WHY DO YOU CARE?" He growled the question, looking at Malfoy's startled face with deep intensity. He felt bitter resentment start to seep through him as he gazed at the boy.

"Your father was there, you know that? He proudly told me that he was the one who gave Winky that bracelet." Suddenly, the sparkle in Draco's grey eyes was starting to dull again but he couldn't care enough in the deep sea of confusion, hurt, and anger that were suddenly bubbling to be let out. "And Goyle and Crabbe. Their father's were there too. Do you know what I thought when I saw them? I thought you were on the opposite side-" Draco was starting to look miserable and Harry's anger dispersed at just the look of it. "but then, you hugged me." he muttered, giving Draco a frustrated glare when the blond blinked at those last words.

"I didn't hug you-" he started to sputter.

Harry raised a brow. "You did." he murmured softly, with an inch of wonder as he remembered the terrifying moment when he touched the portkey, hoping to be back home and closing his eyes in vain helplessness. And then, out of nowhere, he saw Malfoy approach with those eyes. Eyes that clearly spoke things that words could never have. They told him Malfoy cared and while he questioned why he would- could for an enemy- Malfoy had already come to hug him and Harry had felt all his fears, all his anger, and helplessness leave him. He was alive and there was this new warm source that was holding him and he felt alleviated.

He realised some time later that they were staring at each other, and that his hold on Malfoy's collar had eased until his hands were just resting there (looking almost intimate). He recoiled back, self-conscious again and gave a wary look at Malfoy who was staring at him with a confused glint in his eyes.

"Did I help?" he finally asked and Harry, who felt his heart beating fast for not fear or any other reason but what just happened, twisted his fingers together.

"Help what?" he inquired gruffly. This time, he was one who couldn't look into Malfoy's eyes for more than a minute.

"In anyway." Malfoy's voice had a desperate curb to it.

Harry nodded. "If you hadn't told me, I would probably be wondering why and what was happening. It helped."

"Good." Malfoy said and Harry looked at him and saw that he was smiling (albeit, a bit thinly). "Good, Potter."

With those words, he turned and departed, leaving behind a very confuzzled Harry who didn't even have time to call out for the Slytherin.


	18. Part I, chapter eighteen: Farewell

**Title**: For the First time

**Author**: Mabu  
**Rating:** NC-17  
**Genre:** Romance, Angst, Humor, Adult, Violence.  
**Disclaimer**: Property of JK Rowling. Quotes from the book may be repeated in here since time is turning.**  
****Author's note: **Something I can't forget to tell you guys is that next chapter is the start of Part II: meaning, fifth year and the summer in between. So, hope you guys continue. But if you'd like to leave the story as it is, I won't mind because god knows, I totally am not committed to writing it fully. If I do write it, I hope to continue it thoroughly and wish I get the strength. Anyway, last chapter :)

* * *

Alice sat behind a desk, throwing up a round crystal ball before catching it with her hands elegantly. She was smiling mysteriously.

'I hope you know, Draco.' she said to the empty room, her eyes dark and satanic. 'That what's unattainable will forever be unattainable, no matter what. So, realise it soon and come back to me.' her smile turned thin as she paused her throw-and-catch, looking into the crystal and her breath hitched. Harry Potter's face reflected in it and she grimaced, her grip automatically tightening on the glass.

She became aware of what she was doing and released her grip. Looking up as she rested her head on the chair, her eyes turned magically misty and blue.

'Come back so we can be together.'

* * *

**Chapter eighteen:**

**Farewell Reminder**

"Tomorrow's taking me away from you  
Like a jealous lover  
Kiss me one last time  
Before I go down this broken road I follow."

_Run to you_ by**The Rasmus  
**

* * *

"Professor," Draco began, leaning in. "If you tell the Ministry that Voldemort has returned on only Potter's testimony than, you will never get anywhere. They will reject the pensieve memory or anything the portraits would have to say. You need to gather a secret force with your power and convince people you know instead of trying to announce something that big without any evidence."

"What are you talking about? Of course, they'll believe Harry." Weasley said from somewhere, looking profoundly foolish.

Draco turned to sneer at him before he looked back to Dumbledore and raised a brow. "They won't believe you or Potter. That's all I'm saying."

Dumbledore stared at him over the half-moon glasses, assessing his proud and condescending profile as Draco stood before him.

"Mal-" Potter was about to spew out something when his Godfather, Sirius Black stepped up, looking apprehensive.

"Suppose that you are right to assume that. Why would you make such an assumption, Mr. Malfoy?" Black asked a perfectly reasonable question and Draco respected him for that.

He nodded, he knew one of them would ask such a question and he was prepared. "Cornelius Fudge feels threatened by Dumbledore's power. Dumbledore may have rejected the offer to being the Ministry of Magic but Fudge feels wary since the Tri-wizard tournament. It shows the kind-of influence and connections our Headmaster has." when they didn't seem convinced by his argument, he turned it to something else. "Also, after the disaster the first war had been, people are scared and now that they're living a safe day-to-day life, news about the Dark Lord would only fail to be comprehended."

"But at least, we can warn them!" Granger argued.

"You can." Draco said soberly, as he stopped to clench his fists tightly. "You can try and warn them but remember, Ministry has more control over what the wizarding world should think. _Daily Prophet _flies around stories after stories but they're not exactly true. So, do you think the _Daily Prophet_ will try to glorify any of the incidents that happened at Hogwarts concerning Voldemort's return. No, they'll focus on the negative aspect of it. Like, how the Boy-Who-Lived is lying that Voldemort's back because he just wants attention."

"I don't want-"

"You don't. But they would think so." it was Black, to everyone's surprise, who concluded this after interjecting his godson. Draco crossed his arms, exhaling a breath in not quite relief but something of that type.

"It would only make you look like fools if you tell them." Draco murmured as his last defense.

The room was silent in contemplation where Weasley stared uncertainly at others, Potter looked down in hateful anger, and Draco relaxed back to lean against a wall. He closed his eyes. It was a few days after the incident and Dumbledore had decided to include Draco in on the meetings they had. Exams were a week ahead and everyone was busy preparing for it. Sirius Black, who had heard of the incident, had come out of his hiding place and decided that telling Dumbledore about his existence was more important than keeping it a secret.

"For Harry's sake." He had said.

He asked them all to refer to him as Snuffles when he was a dog or if they were talking about something.

"This would save other eavesdroppers from finding out." Sirius had said, glancing at Draco while he did. Weasley glared at him while Granger nodded responsibly. Potter just looked pensive. He was doing a lot of that, these days: thinking and looking broody. Draco couldn't remember much from his fourth year anymore but he knew that even then, Potter had been distant and sulky.

"I will consider," Dumbledore finally said. "what you have told me, Draco. It was, you should know, my choice that I did not tell the Ministry outright of what happened when Harry had disappeared. It is appropriate to assume that they would only make our warning a negative concept. However, Ms. Granger is right too. We should warn the people who might still believe."

Draco took a heaving sigh, looking away as he realised that the Headmaster may be clever and powerful, but he was entirely optimistic about a person's irredeemable qualities. He couldn't hate the old wizard for that, though, because he had been the only one who had reached out to Draco instead of refuting him right there. But when he thought of what the Ministry had ended up doing, in the end for all that trust, Draco knew it was futile.

"You know what will happen." Draco persisted, a twisted look in his eyes. "They will send someone to take over you as the Headmaster. They will make your influence weaker and convince students in Hogwarts that Harry Potter is a liar and you- they will do whatever they can. You don't want Aurors inside here, trying to control what you should. And all because of your optimistic belief that everyone is redeemable." He stared straight into the Headmaster's eyes. "In the end, you'll be powerless to stop things from happening."

"What are you talking about?" Weasley demanded, looking angry.

"You don't know that!" insisted Granger.

"I agree with them. Malfoy's reasoning sounds a bit presumptuous." Black said with that glint in his eyes that said he wanted to know exactly why Draco was assuming in the first place and maybe, why he was helping when his father was on the other side.

Draco felt a wretched tug at his intense emotions and he opened and pressed his lips together.

"I think I've said quite enough." He said with one fierce glance around him before he turned and left the office. He had pended his case, he had made his point- if they didn't believe him than, he could care less about these oblivious and stupid fools.

-0-

His father had finally wrote a letter that was more than a little informative but Draco knew already so reading the smug and condescending writing, he had only felt cynical. But at least, his father was bound to be a favourable resource Draco could use. Deciding that he could give up on his contingency plan if all went well, he told his mother who may have been happy to oblige except she had already called her disowned sister. Aunt Andromeda had been stunned, to say, to have her sister fire-call her but after hearing what his mother had to say, she had sympathised and told her that she would welcome Draco's presence in her home anytime.

Narcissa's letter had been painfully obvious in its discomfort: she never failed to mention her disapproval of Draco's plan and what betrayal she had commenced on her husband's back, but with Draco's assurances, she had relaxed. She also, wouldn't say what she herself felt after seeing her sister after so many years. Instead, she wanted to know how Draco could know of his relations. Draco made some excuse about how he had seen the tapestry at the House of Blacks when he had been little. It was a white lie but he refused to be hurt from it.

Draco's exams went more than a little well at the end of term because he had busied himself into reading more books in the library after the incident. He had also, been meditating some of the events that he could remember happening in the past lifetime. There were changes he noticed he had made but they were so little, he didn't know if they could ever make a difference. After what he failed to protect, Draco now was more than resolved to face whatever obstacle that came between him and Potter. Before, Voldemort had been a fearful enemy but after knowing that he would be defeated, Draco only saw him as an obstacle. He knew he was entirely apathetic about the process, but what else could be done when you were from the future?

The only thing he cared about was Potter's welfare and wasn't that telling?

It was during one of those uneventful days that Draco had decided that on the last day, he would leave a consistent keepsake just for Potter. He knew it must be tiring and stressing to think about the Dark Lord day and night, wanting to know what Voldemort was up to and he knew Potter was the type to do it. Even while he was in class, laughing along with his friends, that glint in his eyes about knowing more would never vanish. Potter wanted to know and whenever the idea of it got too intense, he looked to Draco with that piercing stare.

Draco smiled at the memory, knowing that he had become Potter's personal informant, whether the trio knew or not.

Then, a two months of departure from everything resourceful, Draco knew Potter would be frustrated and Draco was rubbing his hands in glee at just the prospect of it. Potter's frustration may not be sexual, but that dangerous gleam in his eyes to know more could be useful in some way. Draco only hoped it could. He may come to know Potter a bit better after his observations of the boy since he came here, but he was not a mind-reader. Potter may still not feel anything for him as a person.

_He did like your girl self, though. _noted a smug voice. Draco rolled his eyes. Yes, Potter had reacted conveniently to the female Draco but he had been a she, then. If Potter felt anything for him, it must be altogether a bundle of confusing that he would only like to remove from his mind. Unfortunately for Potter, Draco didn't like to be forgotten for anything and his idea of leaving a reminder was a bit more extreme than just.

It was their last dinner when Dumbledore had not announced, like Draco had asked, the incident that happened just two weeks ago. The trio were sullen about that and Potter seemed thoroughly frustrated that people did not know when they should be prepared for any assault and Draco knew he was right in his own worries, but he had seen the outcome so he knew they would only be thankful to not have Umbridge take over the Defense Against Dark Arts course. He could just see it in his mind, the memory of Potter furiously glaring at Umbridge and yelling at her that Voldemort was alive and that, he was not lying. It was Draco's own selfishness that didn't want Potter focusing on her at all. He wanted the next year to be his time; the year that he could finally do his best to seduce without feeling like he was luring in a child, instead of a man.

And Potter would become a man, then. He would have broader shoulders, his baby fat would go away, he would be just a bit taller, and his eyes would be stoned into barely held anger. The frustration that was brewing beneath the surface in Potter's mind would explode some day and Draco wanted to be the one who would be at the end of it.

That was what he promised himself.

He put the silverware down. He had eaten barely anything, what with all the jitters in his nerves that were screaming for him to get up and run away but he would not back down. He had to do this. Also, if the staff didn't like what he did, they could only be-

_No. Father. _He finally remembered. Two words that made him settle back down, two fists lay on either side of his plate. He looked down, blinking and trying to contain his disappointment. No, he could not do this in front of public. It would be too common, too ritualistic. He may be an exhibitionist, as Queenie had pointed out, but this was something he wanted to keep personal and between the two of them. Also, his father would not understand if he kissed his Master's enemy.

_No, I will do this_. He thought, resolved._ But, privately._

With that decided, he moved on to the dessert. He had missed Hogwart's meals a lot when they had graduated, and he had missed the sweets abundantly. Also, the meals may have been more authentic due to the guests being there. Of course, they had left after lunch before the sun could set. Cedric Diggory had been the champion in the tournament and Hogwarts was happily celebrating the victory. Hufflepuffs were a mass that could not be reckoned with; they were so bloody excited, it was contagious. So, Draco wasn't going to mess it all up with his objective.

He would just wait.

-0-

"So, this is Rita Skeeter." Ron said, sounding a tad wondrous as he eyed the beetle twittering inside the jar. Hermione, who was holding the jar gave him a nod and frowned down at the unregistered Animagus. "Sneaky, isn't she? Now that I think about it, I know I've seen a beetle near us plenty of times."

"That's right. Malfoy wasn't the only one who was sneaking up on us." said Hermione, affronted. She didn't add that it was lucky that Malfoy was the only one who had heard about Sirius before they had replaced his name to Snuffles but with the look she was giving Harru, it was implied.

The three were sitting around in the compartment, Ron and Hermione side-by-side and Harry on the other side. Hermione had captured Rita Skeeter after the inapproprite and completely biased articles she had made concerning Hermione's two-timing relation with Harry and Krum. It was only later that she had deduced that the only way Skeeter could have sneaked up on them was that she were an Animagus. And, the rest was history.

Harry sighed, resting his head back as he looked out the wide transparent window, showing the last bit of Hogwarts as it disappeared out of sight with the train racing off. The things that had happened this year were too much for him to take and seeing his parent's for the first and maybe even for last time had been an emotional turmoil he still wasn't ready to think about. He closed his eyes slowly, seeing the end of his glasses' frame as his mind went through consciousness and unconsciousness.

He woke up with a start when he heard Ron's question: "What are you doing here, Malfoy?"

Harry jolted, turning his head to squint at Draco Malfoy, who stood at the door of their compartment with a thin, devising smile. He straightened up in his seat, fingering up his glasses and eying Malfoy's figure warily.

"I was just passing by." shrugged Malfoy, his mouth widening into a wicked smirk. "And I had a drive to do something before the year is over."

"What?" Ron demanded, looking confused because Malfoy had been their enemy before and now, his position was just a bit ambiguous. They hadn't wanted to believe Malfoy in the first place, but after he had told them that he knew Black was the dog sitting in Dumbledore's office, they had no choice but to trust him not to say anything about Black. Hermione had suggested in her moment of brilliance that he should just Memory Charm the boy but Dumbledore had shaken his head, saying he wanted to trust Draco.

It was highly agitating to give someone like Malfoy the benefit of the doubt, but Harry's instincts spoke louder than anything, he trusted Malfoy with Sirius' secret despite the Slytherin's snobby behavior.

"Oh, nothing quite complicated." Malfoy said, shutting the door behind him as he stepped inside. "Remember Rita Skeeter's article-" Hermione tensed, her grip on the beetle going tight as Malfoy's eyes ended up resting on the jar. "-about me."

"Yes?" Hermione said carefully, waiting.

Malfoy stopped, frowning at the jar. "Granger, you just tarnished my plans. What's Skeeter doing here?"

They all were startled, looking up at Malfoy who raised both eyebrows. Then, Harry remembered that Malfoy knew almost everything for whatever reason and relaxed.

"You know about it too?" Hermione asked, who had calmed down too. "And what do you mean by 'plans'?" she looked suspiciously at him.

Malfoy sighed, looking defeated and sat down beside Harry who stared at him dubiously. "Well, maybe fate doesn't want me to do it."

"What?" asked Hermione for all of them, looking perplexed.

Malfoy looked up at her, his grey eyes stark naked in its heat. "If I ask kindly, would you take the jar out of sight, please, Granger?"

"You don't want her to see or hear what you're 'planning'?" Hermione deduced, looking proud to have come to the conclusion.

Malfoy stared at her before he rolled his eyes. "If you know why than, get her out of sight."

Hermione stood up and turned to her bag, unzipping a pocket and putting the jar in there. She sat back again. "I've already warned her about not writing unnecessary things, but this way, she won't hear or see anything." she said, shrugging.

Ron gaped at her. She glanced at him and raised her brows in question.

"Why're you listening to Malfoy?" he demanded, flustered. "Dumbledore told us to trust him with our secrets, not listen to his every whim."

"It's not a whim." Malfoy spoke up, his voice low.

Ron turned to glare at him. "Then, what is it?"

"It's a gift." said Malfoy with a meaningful smile. Ron goggled, sputtering but before he could say anything else, Malfoy was turning to look at Harry. "Not for you, Weasley." He said, his eyes locked with Harry feelingly. "For you, Potter." he breathed at Harry, leaning forward with his pupils dilated and his lips looking extremely close and distracting.

Harry could have moved, now that he thought about it- he probably should have- but as he said, Malfoy's eyes, his nose, his lips were all very distracting up close. He looked, in that moment, a beautiful creature with pale-blond hair, and almost silvery grey orbs. Harry was mesmerized and he knew this was what all those blokes felt when Malfoy had unexpectedly assaulted their mouth. This desire to have it and just as Malfoy's lips touched his, he knew he wanted to have it. There was a heat in his groin that was unfamiliar in its excitement and Malfoy hadn't even moved his mouth yet. It was just an almost innocent press of the mouth. He could hear gasps and grumbles of protests in the background from his friends but in that moment, Malfoy had all his focus and attention.

Malfoy's eyes were grey slits, narrowed but not closed and they eyed Harry's reaction like a hawk, feeding on it. Harry was breathless, his heart was stammering in his rib-cage and he felt utterly awestruck. It was a moment of revelation, and of forgetting everything outside the world. Malfoy's lips were still on Harry's, feeling so soft and smooth that in that moment of headiness, he opened his mouth and pressed it against Malfoy's.

_Draco's. _He reminded himself. _Draco._

And then, Draco was pulling away and it was tragic, actually because it was much too short for Harry who stared at the spot where Draco had been at, immobile. He heard some steps, the click of the door opening, and someone leaving but he couldn't look up. He was too shocked and dumbstruck to say or do anything.

"What the hell." Ron squeaked weakly, looking sick when Harry turned to stare. Hermione had a hand over her mouth as she eyed Harry with a surprised yet calculative expression. "What the hell was that?"

"That, my dear brother, was a kiss." came a cheery reply from two identical voices. They turned to see Fred and George standing by the door, smiling down at Harry with a mischevious look.

"A bit sloppy, for Malfoy, though." chirped Fred sitting on one side of Harry while George sat with Ron and Hermione.

"And romantic." George supplied.

"And disgusting!" exclaimed Ron, looking outraged.

"Well, it depends on the perspective, doesn't it, brother?" George said jovially.

"You- you guys were watching." Harry said, looking at the door from where Draco must have left.

Fred nodded with a wide smile. "We saw Malfoy passing by-"

"And we just had to see what he was about to do." George finished.

"You aren't surprised that he did... that?" Hermione inquired, glancing at Harry nervously before quickly looking away.

"A bit, yeah." Fred said. "But it wasn't hard to guess after that article."

"I thought so too." Hermione agreed, nodding. Harry gave her a shocked look and she gave a painful grimace in return. "Malfoy's been focusing much of his attention on you, Harry. And I wondered why he would eavesdrop on us if he wasn't going to, you know, blackmail us but then, there was the incident with Moaning Myrtle."

"What? What was that about?" Harry questioned, resolutely not thinking about the kiss that burned imprints on his lips.

"You know, the day Myrtle came to visit us at the Gryffindor common room? It was Malfoy that had been crying there." she said, looking a bit regretful.

"_What?_" Harry couldn't believe his ears.

"You know what that means." said George, looking pleased. When Harry could only look at them in a puzzled manner, they said in unison: "He fancies you."

Harry blinked, dawning comprehension lighting up his face.

"But that can't be! Why would Malfoy-" Ron was hysterically defiant to the idea. Harry wasn't far behind but only one realisation stopped him from doing so.

_That look._

It was the only reason Malfoy could have been giving him these looks. Eyes widening, he swallowed.

_It doesn't have to be essentially that, does it? I mean, it's not like- Malfoy couldn't fancy me. It's just too weird to think about. I'm not thinking about it. _

"He hates me." Harry blurted out as his last defense.

George and Fred gave him flat looks that made him feel like an idiot.

"Correction: Hated you." they said and Harry couldn't protest anymore because the train was coming to a stop at the station and he really had to leave because Ron and Hermione were giving him different but the same questioning looks.

Ron must be pleading with his eyes for Harry to come up with a reasonable argument and Hermione must be raising her brows as if to say: 'I knew this was going to happen. Did you?'

For the first time, he wanted to see the Dursley's mean profile rather than facing his friend's inquisitive questions.

And all because of Draco Malfoy.


	19. Part II, chapter one: Castle Walls

**Title**: For the First time

**Author**: Mabu  
**Rating:** NC-17  
**Genre:** Romance, Angst, Humor, Adult, Violence.  
**Disclaimer**: Property of JK Rowling. Quotes from the book may be repeated in here since time is turning.**  
****Author's note: **Potential? My story? Oh, you flatter me. (and I'm hopeless) It's short but the next one will be the one you'll all be salivating over.

* * *

**Part II: Fifth year**

* * *

**Chapter one:**

**Castle Walls**

"If I should tumble,  
If I should fall,  
would anyone hear me  
screaming behind these castle walls?  
There's no-one here at all."

** Castle Walls by Christina Aguilera**

* * *

The start of summer, Draco had been positively anxious at his return to the Malfoy Manor. The stone floors, the marbles, the portraits; all of it was the same as he remembered but the real threatening hazard in his own house was his father's presence. His father; who had been absent from home for a while now and thus, Draco had the chance to relax in his own home and discuss with his mother the situation that he had chosen to be into.

Unsurprisingly, his mother didn't want to talk about it. Her attitude was one of stern nonchalance whenever they had dinner or lunch. She sat there, looking like a queen with no concern on her face and Draco remained frustrated. Until three days, that is. After three days, he couldn't take the silence, and the utter disregard for the importance of these days. He had spent the three days in the company of the Manor's House-Elves and the library. But he had read all the books that resided there, memorized every line, and learned all the patterns and he wanted to know more about what was going on and Lucius wasn't there to tell him.

That's why, at dinner, he announced: "I'm going to Aunt Andromeda's house today." Her mother startled out of her elegant composure and stared at him with wide eyes. He stopped from smirking, knowing that he was victorious in this game of silence. "I need to see her on my own, to know her better."

"No. You can't." His mother said. "I refuse to send you there. What if Lucius finds out?" she looked so scared of the prospect that the crack of a House-Elf's Apparated presence made her gasp slightly. He stared at her hunched figure and knew what scared her the most. Eyes softening, he put his hands on her shoulder and made her look at him.

"I won't be leaving through floo, so father won't find out where I went. Also, he's rather busy." He said, trying to sound convincing but apparently, it wasn't working because she shook her head in despair. "I won't let him know until it's time." He said softly.

She stilled and spoke, her voice wavering. "What time?"

He smiled gently. "Even I don't know that, mother."

She searched his face and found what she was looking for because she nodded. "Alright. Just— don't take too much time."

He nodded back and stood up.

"How? How will you—" she asked, looking at his back as he turned. "If you don't floo then…"

Draco had thought about that. He couldn't Apparate to her house if he didn't know the place. Then, he had remembered that Aunt Andromeda had a daughter who worked for the Ministry as an Auror. Nymphadora Tonks, her name had been and from what Draco knew, she had been in the Order of the Phoenix.

"Don't worry, mother. I know what I'm doing." He said. "Also, if father shows up, tell him I'm at the Ministry."

With that, he went to the fire-place and floo'd to the Ministry of Magic.

-0-

"Excuse me, I wanted to see Auror Tonks." Draco told the receptionist.

The receptionist looked up and checked him with a critical eye while he smiled professionally. Then, coming to some conclusion, she nodded. "She's in her office." She gestured to the door on the right.

"Thank you." He said and went to the door, rapping on the wood.

"Come in." came the voice.

He entered the room and closed the door behind him. Nymphadora Tonks sat behind the desk with her legs resting on the table, and studying a piece of parchment with a raised eyebrow. Her hairs were electric-blue. When Draco came in, she looked away from it and her eyebrows went higher still as she looked at him.

Draco smiled and walked to sit on one of the chairs across her. "How are you, cousin?"

Tonks was about to shuffle straight in her seat when her leg crashed into a glass globe and it fell to the ground with a clatter. Draco raised both eyebrows.

"Oops." She said, looking at the shattered glass on the ground. "Oh well. _Reparo_." She spelled the glass fixed again and put it on the table carefully. "Alright." She smiled and looked at Draco. "I didn't expect to be visited by er…" she evidently knew who he was by the way her eyes lightened up in recognition at his presence.

"Draco. Draco Malfoy." He introduced. She nodded, staring at him warily. "I'm the son of Narcissa Malfoy—" he was about to say, just to be clear with her.

"I know." She interrupted. "My mother did say something about you wanting to stay at our house, if you were disowned for your— your betrayal to the pure-bloods." She smiled. "I didn't believe her."

"Why not?" He asked, baffled.

"Because, why would you?" She asked, staring at him knowingly.

He opened his mouth and closed it. He swallowed the sour feelings in his throat and nodded, knowing exactly what she was talking about.

"Well, I've turned over a new leaf. Can't listen to my father anymore." Draco said, his voice quivering slightly. "Either way." He said, clearing his throat. "How's your mother?"

"Oh, she's good. Still as fit as ever." Said Tonks jovially. "And worried about the Dark Lord's return, of course."

"You've been informed." He stated, not exactly questioning.

"Yeah, Dumbledore told it to those who could be trusted." She said lightly. Then, she leaned forward and asked: "So, you really are going to be a 'traitor'?" the emphasis she put on the word was comical and Draco smiled, finally relaxing.

"Yes. I actually came here to know what Dumbledore is up to?"

"Oh, that. Not come here to meet your cousin, have you? Just some ulterior motives." She said, acting petty as she rolled her eyes. He couldn't help but laugh.

"No. No, I've— I've wanted to meet you." He told her feelingly. She blinked. "But you see. I need to know."

She nodded, understanding. "Everyone needs to know. This is the time of our lives that everyone does yet, I don't understand why Dumbledore prefers to keep it a secret."

"He doesn't trust the Ministry." said Draco.

"I guess. But Fudge may be, a bit berky but he's—you know, good at his job. From what I can tell."

"You're probably right. But he's also, jealous of Dumbledore. And with the power he has, it's hard to come to terms with the fact that Dumbledore may once again get people's respect. For informing them of what he's come upon. Dark Lord's return is a big thing."

"Right." Tonks said, a strange expression on her face. "You seem to know a lot."

"Maybe. But I need to know what Dumbledore is planning to do these days." He added. "If it were up to me, I'd want to meet him myself."

She smiled. "Well, you're in luck. Dumbledore is going to visit the Ministry tomorrow. He's been doing that a lot lately. You know, keeping check with Fudge." Then, she paused. "You're right. Fudge is jealous. He's becoming quite skeptical of Dumbledore's frequent visits. Doesn't that say a lot?"

_Once you've tasted power, you only want more. _Draco smiled. "It does."

-0-

Draco had a confrontation with Dumbledore the next day, where Draco had concealed himself until he had bumped into the Headmaster. Mad-Eye had been there, already seeing through him but with Dumbledore's nod, he had backed off and Draco was led to an empty room where they talked about Draco's concerns and Dumbledore's plans. He was making up the Order of Phoenix again and telling people of Voldemort's return. He had devised a method of telling a person and if they were to deflect against it, they would obliviate them. It was a very Slytherin method and Dumbledore admitted that it was Snape who had advised him to do so.

Draco remembered the names of some of the people he knew from the past lifetime as the members of the Order of the Phoenix and told Dumbledore about them. Dumbledore found that a lot resourceful because he had been stuck on which people he should choose. He thanked Draco and asked him how it was going at the Malfoy Manor. Draco told him he hadn't seen father lately and Dumbledore admitted that Lucius was on missions to make allegiances for the Dark Lord's army. When Draco asked why he knew, he already knew the answer.

Snape was a double-spy for Dumbledore again. The sheer dread that filled him at the news made Draco sick to his stomach.

He immediately Apparated his way to Spinner's End.

When Snape opened the door after desperately loud knocks, Draco was already in tears.

"Draco?" His mentor was surprised but covered that up well as he led Draco inside and shut the door behind him. "What are you doing here?"

Draco stopped from sobbing there and clutched his head. "Why? Why did you have to be a spy again? Why couldn't I be good enough to stop that?"

"Draco." Snape came to sit beside him and made Draco stop digging his fingers on his skull. "Draco. Listen to me."

Draco opened his watery eyes and looked at him. His mentor's eyes were dark and stern.

"This isn't your fault, do you hear me? And this way, I'm useful to the war. I have lots of debt to repay for Dumbledore's kindness. If I weren't spying for Dumbledore, do you know what I would have been doing? I'd have been dead or uselessly hiding somewhere where Voldemort's henchmen couldn't find me. Igor Karkaroff is the proof of what the Dark Lord is capable of."

Draco scoffed. "The coward's dead again."

"He wasn't a coward, Draco. He saved himself just as anyone would have." Snape said.

Draco's eyes lowered in shame.

"Now, tell me: what are you doing here? Hasn't Lucius returned yet?"

That jolted Draco out of his stupor.

"Father's returning."

"Yes. Just a day ago, he had." Snape said, "I should warn you that your father is coming with company."

Draco nodded, rubbing off the tears from his eyes and stood up. "Right. I better be ready for them, then."

Snape looked up at him. "Take care of yourself."

"Oh, I'll take care. It's them that'll have to watch out." Draco's voice was hoarse so he must have sounded unconvincing but the smirk he wore couldn't have been anymore nasty.

Snape sighed. "What are you planning now, brat?"

Draco only smiled mysteriously.

-0-

When you were the son of Lucius Malfoy, life was pretty good all around. No need to worry about the bottom of the chain; about the corruption spreading throughout when your father was the one who was at the base of all its evil. He had always been told that he was a Malfoy and so, should act like one. All his life, the same lessons and same prejudiced-filled words were induced in his mind and he supposed, that was why he was such a snotty brat. But his father's superiority complex had messed him all up.

He had stood among a crowd, among the same bratty kids like him and held his head high, like a leader. There was no rejection for a Malfoy. He had everything; a mother who adored him and gave him everything and a father who was prideful and successful. He had lived in the Manor since his birth and knew every knot and canny around it but never in his life had he been more trapped than the time Voldemort had taken over his place.

"So, that's your boy, eh, Lucius?" said the tall man, peering at Draco with a leery eye. Draco stood with a respectable bow, never looking straight into the man's eye.

"Yes. It is." said his father, a hand snaking its way around Draco's shoulder and squeezing there; a reminder to him that he was watching Draco's every move and an appraisal that Draco was doing a good job so far. "What do you think, Nott? How about we take this to the sitting room?"

Nott Sr. nodded, smiling as he gave one last glance around at the ostentatious hallway before he moved to walk side-by-side with Lucius. Draco fell back a foot behind.

"So, do you think the goblins will help us?" Nott Sr. asked.

His father shook his head. "You never know about those conniving breed. They're more into money than they are into power or revenge."

"Well, that won't be a problem then." They reached the sitting room and the two sat to have a long discussion. Father ordered the Tinky for wine and Draco listened quietly as the two Death Eaters conversed about their plans. Once, Nott Sr. had glanced over to regard Draco but his father's unconcerned gaze made him give up on questioning Draco's position.

It was long into midnight when Nott Sr. got up and shaking Lucius' hand, told him he would visit with his son and wife sometime. He referred to Draco as a second thought, politely questioning about his school and left with his House-Elf in an abrupt, brisk manner; the way all biased purebloods walked. As if the world was the dirt and they were somewhere on the top.

Draco had once felt like them; like he deserved respect, admiration, and power. He had depended so much on his father's words that the world just became a shadow and he became superior. Even then, he had felt lonely. Alone in the great walls of this manor, he had felt trapped. Since he was a kid, his father's looming figure watched over everything he did: criticizing, punishing, neglecting, abandoning, and giving just a mild attention once he did something worth praising over. Draco had always loved to be given praises by his father. The opinion of his father mattered more than his mother or anyone else for that matter. That's why he had cast away Snape in the sixth year, after finding out what a betrayer he was because his father thought so.

Father, father, father.

Everything revolved around him. Draco had tried to strip it off of him; the footprints his father had left on his skin but it was no use. It was like nature; accepting his father's ways.

"Draco." He looked up at his father's voice, gazing into the grey eyes that watched him like a predator, instead of a parent. "How are you?"

"I'm fine, father." He said, brushing off the disturbed part of him that was screaming to be away from this man; this man whom he loved and hated at the same time.

_Such a kid. Still dependent. Still wanting, hoping. Pathetic._

Lucius nodded. "I'm sorry that I wasn't able to meet as you came but you understand the responsibility I have, don't you?"

"Of course."

"Good." Lucius turned away. "Walk with me."

He did, keeping just a foot behind his father in lowered respect as they ambled outside, to the garden. Fresh air breezed by, fountains splashed, owls hooted, and yet, there was complete silence. Draco didn't dare speak.

"I've heard," his father began. "about your behavior from some of my colleagues." Draco wasn't surprised to hear this. "You have been dallying off with boys, they say. I told them that couldn't be true. You were assaulted by a brute, weren't you? It wasn't consensual."

Draco didn't lower his head, keeping his eyes leveled and still on the front. "No, father. It wasn't consensual."

Lucius nodded and spoke with his eyes on the sky: "But my colleague had doubts, you see. He questioned why a boy would want to go so far as assault you if you are not consenting. You didn't use any method to draw his attention, did you?"

"No, father."

"Snogged a few boys in public?"

Draco heaved the urge to grit his teeth and stopped walking. His father turned to regard him with piercing eyes.

"It was power-play." Draco said, facing his father's eyes head-on. "Marcus Flint was a delusional fool. I didn't seduce him. I snogged a few boys to get everyone's attention on me; it worked brilliantly." His father's eyebrows went higher. "I'm still going to wed a wife and have a heir. My adventurous preferences won't affect anything, father. You can be assured."

His father considered him, his gaze settling on every feature of Draco's face before he paused and jerked his chin up. "Be sure to do that." Lucius turned away and continued to walk as Draco followed after him. "This 'queer' matter doesn't concern me. What we have to worry about now is making the reputation of Malfoy keep to its words. We will help the Dark Lord in every way we can and this time, we will succeed."

"Of course, we will, father." Said Draco in a snobbily smug voice.

His father patted his back in a 'I'm proud of you, son' gesture. Draco stopped from rolling his eyes. The same speech he had given Draco after he had returned from fourth year the last lifetime and at that time, Draco had been utterly arrogant about the results.

Now, he was arrogant for an entirely different reason.


	20. Part II, chapter two: Clash Through

**Title**: For the First time

**Author**: Mabu  
**Rating:** NC-17  
**Genre:** Romance, Angst, Humor, Adult, Violence.  
**Disclaimer**: Property of JK Rowling. Quotes from the book may be repeated in here since time is turning.**  
****Author's note: **Why am I taking so much time? It's not my fault! I just graduated and I have an interview and I'm busy. Also, I've just found a new TV show: House M.D. It's unfair, I know but I'll try my best to do this. I've already warned you though that I'm not sure if this will continue to be a long one. I hope I can do this, for my self-esteem as a writer even! D_:

* * *

**Chapter two:**

**Clash Through**

* * *

His correspondence with Snape and Dumbledore remained obscurely unmentioned to the Dark side and Draco kept on receiving news around both sides. There were still things he had to discuss with the old coot but that could wait. Earning his father's trust had been easy because Lucius knew him as the son who was completely loyal to the Malfoy name. Draco used to be a doll dressed up in his father's words, rolled around like a dice and played with such precision that he wouldn't even realise it. Now, it was different but in the outward appearance, it wasn't so much.

As July arrived, Dumbledore told the members of the Order of the Phoenix that their secret Headquarters derived in the House of Blacks, a property of Sirius Black. Draco knew of the Grimmauld Place already because of family connections but it was still news and it made some things come to perspective. Draco hadn't forgotten about the dementor incident with Potter. It had just slipped his mind like all the other memories. Last life-time, he had had glimpses of the _Daily Prophet_ and the Ministry talking about the Boy-Who-Lived on trial but it hadn't been the highlight of that year at all. The highlight had been Sirius Black's death and his father's arrest to Azkaban.

Draco wouldn't let history repeat itself so, one thing he did to get rid of any nuisance was keep a check on the Ministry. He went with Lucius to most of the conference meetings and separated from his father when he was attending those meetings to chase out all the loose ends that would make him aware of any faults at the Ministry. He also, had gathered some very specific people's hair from the Ministry in case, he needed them for some reason. He had given a visit to Umbridge too for that reason. She evidently didn't know him so entering her office, she had only asked innocently: "Yes?" in a sweetly nauseating way and Draco, in a minute of mindless frustration had hexed her right there.

Except he had stopped just in time. It wouldn't do good to involve Umbridge in any incidents. She was cleaned away from their lives if Fudge wasn't dubious over Dumbledore's recent activities. But the thing was, he was.

With July, Draco's resolve started to crumble and he could not handle his father's hypocrisy and lies for more than a minute. Patience wasn't a well-driven trait in Draco's personality. When he had wanted something, he got it with some whining and if not, then he would just gripe some more. There was a lot of stomping of foot and crying once upon a time. Draco missed those nostalgic days. He wished he had turned back in time to an eleven-year old body instead of fourteen. At least, then he would have just stomped on Potter's foot before the git could reject his hand of friendship.

Either way, he hadn't had to wait anymore because one morning, his father announced that he was going for another mission for the Dark Lord and he wouldn't be returning for a long time. Narcissa was quiet during it all but with the thin lines drawn on her lips, it was obvious that she was discomfited by her husband's decision and still a bit nervous about her son's welfare.

She was stuck in the middle of a father and son conflict. Except, the conflict hadn't burst into flames yet. Draco was still keeping up his part of the act, though it was agitating to act like his old self sometimes. It was a time for great revelation and if there hadn't been enough faults, he had realised more than a weight of many flaws in the name of a Malfoy. When you looked in while knowing that all that which you were proud to be a part of would go down in history as a tarnished picture, things said from his father were easily deflated and defected from the minute they were spouted on him.

Sometimes, he caught himself in the middle of rolling his eyes and thinking: _Brilliant, he acts like he's a the Highness or something. Hah. See how he likes it when the Dark Lord humiliates him for his failures. Then, he won't be laughing so smugly anymore. _There was a child's concern, solid and still living, in the depths of those thoughts but it was so firmly pushed back that it might have not even existed.

"Mother," it was after he had cast farewell to his father that Draco had gone to visit his mother's room and had found her packing her clothes in a rush. "You're going somewhere?" he asked as he looked around at the floating gowns, each being filled into the trunk in an immaculate fashion. His mother's work was always elegant and clean. She mostly made the House-Elves do her house-hold work but sometimes, when she was in a hurry, she did it by her own.

Narcissa turned and gazed at Draco with wistful eyes. "I'm going to France. You could come too." she added, though her eyes told a different story.

Draco blinked and shook his head. "I have lots of work to do here so, can't. But, hope you'll buy some robes for me from there. I feel like my wardrobe is getting too old."

His mother nodded carefully. "Yes. Yes, I will." as the final dress had gone in the trunk, she closed the lid and looked up. "I- take care of yourself."

He smiled. "Yes. I will."

Narcissa turned sharply at him and almost glared. "I told Tinky to prepare food for you when you want it. Call her whenever you like. Also- just, take care of yourself."

He stared at her silently. She nodded, finally satisfied that her small lecture had gone to his head and then, went to the fireplace in her room.

"Goodbye, Draco." she said before vanishing into green flames.

Draco sullenly gazed at the fire before he sighed and turned around, leaving for his own room.

-0-

His mother had a habit of shopping a lot when she was particularly stressed. Her behavior was irrational and worthless but it helped to relieve her so Draco would let it go because shopping made her feel in control of herself which meant, it made her happy. Draco wanted her to be happy despite her unhealthy dependence on galleons of money. He knew the sheer bliss it was to buy clothes from every good store and then, try them on one-by-one to see how they looked. Then, flaunt it around to a crowd full of admiring fan-girls. He knew the feeling so he couldn't blame her for not being there for him when he needed her help and comfort the most. He had to do it on his own. That was what he had decided for himself.

Still, he could have sufficed with a hug; he could have inhaled her perfume, absorbed her warmth, and received her affections for just a minute but she had seemed to be in a hurry and Draco was a man. He didn't need a mother's hug to be strong.

Or, so he told himself.

But a heart deprived from warmth was desperate for attention and so, he found himself looking back at the door of _12 Grimmauld Place_ as he rang the bell. As he waited, thousands of pros and cons came to mind and he was able to convince himself just in time that his decision had been right from the start. No matter how random, he could confront Dumbledore on what he was doing and maybe, he could meet the members of the Order of Phoenix. It was a possibility.

Just like there was a tiny bit of possibility that Potter was here.

_No, he isn't. Definitely isn't. _He told himself as the door opened to Grimmauld Place and he faced a red-haired woman he knew to be Ron Weasley's mother. She took one look at him before her mouth opened to gape as she let out.

"Come in, dear." it was his first time entering the place in this life-time so, he was a bit curious about how the interior looked like. But once, he was inside and the dark and danky place surrounded him, he could not exactly appreciate its antique beauty.

He grimaced painfully as Mrs. Weasley led him to the kitchen. "Sit down." she told him politely. Draco sat on a chair at the long table reluctantly. Who knew what kind of people sat here and what dirt resided on these furniture? Draco may have changed from being a snobby brat to a tolerable brat but he was still used to a clean area with less dirt and more sanitation. How Weasley or any of the other residents here in this place tolerated the mess, he would never know.

He was already starting to feel the tickle of a somewhat imaginary dirt particle on his cheek. He couldn't survive in this place. It was hell.

"Now, what business does a boy like you have in this place?" asked Mrs. Weasley. Draco, who was suspiciously searching for potential germs on the table looked up at her and blinked. "I've heard that you are helping Dumbledore but aren't you a bit young to be taking part in any of this?"

Draco blinked again at her and then, looked around for anyone else. The kitchen was empty except for the lady. He dreaded looking back at the woman who was intently questioning him of something that wasn't any of her business.

"That's none of your business." Draco told her so. Coldly.

She recoiled. The woman probably never had a young person act that way to her. Motherly warmth, his left foot. She was so nauseating, he could even compare her to Umbridge.

"Now, there's no reason for you to use that tone on me." Draco's eyes narrowed at her as she spoke. "I'm just asking you this for your own welfare. Since your mother-"

"What about my mother?" he interrupted her sharply, glaring daggers at her.

"Well." Mrs. Weasley, he found, was a stubborn mother if not anything. And she obviously cared for every young boy that came out the door. She would probably hug Crabbe and Goyle too if she knew that their father beat them. "Since your mother doesn't know about you being here, taking part in the Order of Phoenix. I feel like you should have a guardian decide what's best for you since you are not old enough to make the right decisions-"

Draco scoffed. "Right decisions." he stood up, looking sick to his stomach. "Look, lady. What I do is my business. If I decided to help your side, it means it's right but if I decide that I'm old enough to be a member of the Order of Phoenix, you're going to doubt my decisions? You're obviously delusional."

"Hey! Don't call my mother that." Ron Weasley's voice came from the entrance. Draco and the red-headed woman turned to see him come in with Hermione Granger by his side.

No Potter, though. Too bad.

"What are you doing here?" Weasley demanded.

"Playing twenty questions with your mum." He answered sarcastically. "What do you think, Weasley? I'm here to meet Dumbledore but your mother's obviously got some weird complex going on since she's inquiring over my decisions when she has no business whatsoever turning her nose in my life."

Weasley stopped looking outraged and gaped.

"What decisions?" Granger asked skeptically.

"I'm going to be a member of the Order of Phoenix, of course." Draco told them haughtily.

"What?" Weasley yelled.

"No." came two identical voices as the Weasley twins entered the kitchen too.

"Yes." Draco said impatiently. "Why do you care?"

"Well, Malfoy." started one of the twins. Draco had only ever been able to tell the twins apart once in his previous lifetime. That was when George Weasley had his ear hexed off. It was gruesome but it worked in telling them apart. But since the two still had their ears intact, Draco could only guess who they were.

"Our mother, you see, insists that we are not yet old enough to join the Order of the Phoenix." the other twin said.

Fred, or that was who Draco would guess he was, started. "We've tried all methods of bargaining our way in but she just won't let us."

"And we're seventeen." stated George Weasley (or so he thought) as they both stared Draco down.

Draco crossed his eyes and looked between the two of them before turning to Mrs. Weasley who was scowling at her sons. Draco looked skyward, at the ceiling and his eyelashes fluttered in a moment of confusion.

"Well, too bad for you guys then." He said, walking forward with a hand ready to wave them all goodbye. "I gotta leave- Does anybody know where Dumbledore or anybody sane is? Maybe, hopefully, Snape?"

Granger shook her head. "Snape's gone for a meeting." _Of course, he has. _Thought Draco as he pondered why his luck was so messed up. No Potter. No Snape. Where was luck when you needed it? "Dumbledore will be coming this evening but he's not here yet. And-"

"And now, you're stuck with us." stated the Weasley twins in a cheerful unison.

Draco couldn't hide the horrified look he was moved into by their words and the twins cackled evilly at his dismay. After a while, even Granger joined in and Weasel did a hesitant laugh even though his eyes were wide with confusion. The Slytherin who was the target of their fun mulled over whether it was still right to want to kill someone you decided was your ally.

Then, he just didn't care anymore because they were thankfully interrupted when Sirius Black entered.

Draco couldn't quite keep the surprise from his face as he faced the man.

"Well, hello there, Malfoy." said Black with a not-quite pleased smile.

"Black." Draco uttered and furrowed his brows as something came to him. _He's hiding. Of course. I hadn't thought of it before but-_

Sirius Black was hiding here in the Headquarters all this time so that the Ministry didn't find him. He was finally recognised innocent when he died though but that obviously wasn't what Potter had in mind. He wanted his freedom. Draco gulped. That was a large duty he wasn't ready to take.

_But I would do it. _

"I was wondering when you would come." Black said, glancing around at the others. "Since Snape's been doing his best to bother us. I thought you'd be doing the same."

_I don't have to like the guy to save hi_m, he told himself and smiled fakely at Black. "Frankly, you're the ones that are doing the bothering. What with the quantity of your size, I'd say, you were the ones bullying me and Snape." he drawled. "But god forbid, the Light side ever be BAD."

The Weasley twins laughed outright at this while Black blinked owlishly before narrowing his eyes. "Well, aren't you as pratty as your father."

"My father is not me." Draco told him merely for the lump stuck on his throat or else, he wouldn't even want to face the man.

"Now, Sirius, don't you bludgeon the boy like that." Mrs. Weasley stood up and came to Draco's side. "He's helping us despite his father's obvious connections. We should welcome him, not-"

"Yes, Molly. You're right." said Black sarcastically and looked at Draco with that smile. "We should get to know each other better. How about we go to the lounge and have a chat? I'm sure you would like me to tell you what we've found out so far because of you and Snape's _generous_ help."

"No thanks." Draco refused quickly and took back a sigh. "I was here to meet Dumbledore but since he's not here then, I should leave."

"Oh, don't leave so soon." Mrs. Weasley insisted.

"Yeah." Granger surprisingly said, glancing side-by-side at the Weasley twins and the Weasel. "We should have a talk, Malfoy."

"Means you want something from me. Fine." Draco said, his eyes on the door. "But I'd like to leave here. It's getting a bit crowded, isn't it?"

"You think, this is crowded?" snorted Weasel. "Wait till you see what happens when they have a meeting."

Draco could only imagine. "Well then, I'm glad I'm not there when they're having a meeting."

"But I thought you wanted to join the Order of Phoenix." Weasel said doubtfully.

"Now." Draco said with a disdainful glance at the floor. "I'm not so sure about that."

"Sirius, where are you going?" Mrs. Weasley asked as Black turned to walk away.

"In my room, Molly. Where else?" he said in a highly bitter tone. Draco raised his brows. Obviously, Black resented being restrained in such a place.

There was an awkward silence where Draco grimaced and the Weasels had an exchange of looks with Granger.

"So, why don't you come with us?" Granger said in a suspiciously sweet voice. "We'll show you around."

Draco glanced at Mrs. Weasley before he nodded at Granger. "Anything to get me out of here." he muttered as he led his way out.

-0-

"So, why are you really here, Malfoy?" was Hermione's first question after they had sat down at the lounge, away in an empty room. Ginny had joined in too, looking curiously surprised to see him here. They had been waiting for the day to meet Malfoy and after he announced that he would join the Order of Phoenix, the twins had goaded her on to talk. Since Hermione was the rationalist among the group, she kept her head tall and determined as she interrogated Malfoy.

Malfoy shrugged, resting his back against the sofa he was sitting on. "I told you, to talk to Dumbledore."

Hermione eyed him suspiciously. "Have I ever asked you why you're helping us?"

"Yes." The Slytherin answered. "Plenty of times."

Hermione's eyes narrowed. "Really?"

"Really."

"And what have you answered with?"

Malfoy paused, glancing at Hermione before looking around at the other residents. "That it's none of your business." he said firmly.

"Hm, yes. You refuse to answer, don't you?" George stepped in, taking over for her. Obviously, her technique wouldn't be working with such a stubborn prat.

"We can't trust you that way, Malfoy." Fred stated.

"We need to know the real reason." they said in unison.

"What makes you think I want you to trust me?" Malfoy asked, eyebrows raised.

George smiled. "Because we think we know the reason."

Malfoy snorted. "Yeah, and what's that?"

"You fancy Harry." They stated.

And just as they had expected, Draco Malfoy froze and the lazy expression he wore the whole time shattered into an expressionless one. Hermione watched him profusely, looking for signs of a reaction. The most she got was a twitch on his mouth and eyebrows.

"What?" He asked, a new mask worn on his face; the mask of wary indifference. "What are you talking about?"

"You may be trying to hide it to your best ability, Malfoy." Fred said, his eyes fixed on Malfoy who was looking very much like a deer under headlights.

"But after that smooch you gave Harry, it was very easy to deduce which reason would make you turn to the Light side." said George.

Then, Malfoy did something completely unexpected. He smiled humorlessly. "And you think a simple crush is making me defy my own father?" he shook his head. "You have to do better than that."

"So, you're not denying that you have a crush on Harry?" asked Ginny, eyebrows furrowed.

"Or is it-" Hermione began, looking fiercely at Malfoy who stared right back with his own stubborn silver eyes. "-that your feelings for Harry suppress the term 'crush'?" she remembered the article if not anything and it may exaggerate a lot of things but the confidence in which they presented Malfoy's quote... and how Malfoy knew that Rita Skeeter was an unregistered Animagus; it made things add up somehow.

Malfoy's expression was quite a puzzle but Hermione was determined to see through it. He opened his mouth and paused for a bit before he spoke, his features hardening. "How about I'm doing this not for Potter or anybody else but myself? What if I'm possessed by someone who has seen what war is like? What if I don't want you all to die? What if I don't want Voldemort coming back? What if I say-" Hermione's heart thudded in fear of the name he just uttered and the fierce fire in his eyes as he talked. "What if I say that my father is wrong? Would you still believe me?"

"What do you mean you're possessed?" Ron was fidgeting by her side but bravely prowled on while Hermione took a break from the shock of Malfoy's words. "What? A ghost has got you?" He turned to Hermione and the others. "You know, I think that's far more likely than Malfoy fancying Harry."

"You're right." Ginny said with a smile, looking relieved though she was also recovering from Malfoy's speech. "Malfoy's possessed by some too-good soul whose making him do good things. It adds up."

Malfoy scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Believe whatever you want, Weasleys." he sneered at Ron and Ginny before standing up. "I, however, sense Dumbledore has come so _Adieu stupides._"

"Did he just call us stupid?" asked Ron, irritated as Malfoy vanished out of their sight.

"That went well." commented Fred, coming to sit by Hermione.

"We probably should have asked him more." Hermione insisted, looking at where Malfoy had left. He shouldn't have gone too far, she could still chase him out.

"Let him go." said George.

"He'll come back."

"Why would he? We've seriously annoyed him to death in here."

"Oh, trust us. He'll come back." said the twins.

She looked at them doubtfully before she turned away and sighed. "Great."


	21. Part II, chapter three: Limitless

** Title**: For the First time

**Author**: Mabu  
**Rating:** NC-17  
**Genre:** Romance, Angst, Humor, Adult, Violence.  
**Disclaimer**: Property of JK Rowling. Quotes from the book may be repeated in here since time is turning.**  
****Author's note:** Alright. I've decided. No matter what, I'm finishing fifth year. Thank you, BloodyHamster for awakening me. Now, off to writing the story.

* * *

**Chapter three:**

** Limitless Freedom**

* * *

And come he did.

After Harry arrived, of course.

It was after Harry's birthday had well gone past did Dumbledore find it a reasonable time to put him out of his ('misery' as Fred had put it) isolation from all things wizardry and ordered him to be fetched by the members of the Order of Phoenix.

Harry had been visibly angry the first few days, for good reason too. When he was given the information he desired (and what they knew so far from the confidential meetings between the members that they didn't get to hear), he got calm enough to stop yelling or vent-out his pent-up frustration. Hermione sympathised with him since living with those horrible Muggles must have been hell but his passive-aggressive behavior was all over the place and very worrying. Though talking with Sirius had helped with maintaining his temper and keeping him on a more friendlier ground.

They had discussed how to get details on the Order of Phoenix meetings and the twins had announced their brilliant plan of using Malfoy as their secret and official resource.

"The problem is, Malfoy's gotten a tiny bit scared by the place." said George chirpily, as he sprayed the Doxycide on the curtains (they had been busy with getting rid of the Doxys with Mrs. Weasley).

"So, we just have to wait until he comes again to make him join the Order of Phoenix and get the information he gets from them while we're at it." Fred added behind Mrs. Weasley's back.

It was a brilliant plan indeed, but the reason Hermione observed Harry's reaction watchfully was not because she wanted to know his opinion of the plan but because it involved Malfoy. Since the day of The Kiss on the train, they hadn't met Harry face-to-face until now. In letters, Harry kept the mention of that incident out of context even when Ron and Hermione did reluctantly try to question him of it. When Malfoy's name was mentioned, the whole group had been eyeing his reaction the most, cautious to the side and Harry had put on a mask of indifference, not unlike Malfoy had the first day he had visited _12 Grimmauld Place_.

He seemed almost, even passive. That was what really scared her because if Harry was bothered about something, he would challenge it outright and aggressively. If he went dull all of a sudden, he obviously was thinking about it and he was afraid to even talk about it. Her worry only tripled when the twins jokingly mentioned the incident during lunch and Harry had tensed for a moment before he relaxed and chuckled with them.

Even so, Hermione didn't try and inquire over the matter._ Wel_l, she decided, _not until summer_. Then, Harry wouldn't be able to avoid it anymore.

Or that's what she had thought but her decision splashed through the ground when Draco Malfoy showed up just before the summer break could end. And with a message everyone in the house was particularly curious about.

-0-

Severus always just shook his head at his godson's idiocy when Draco did something particularly foolish and granted, Draco had his bits of foolishness. But after his return to the past, his mentor seemed to have lost all his legendary cold composure.

His eyebrow twitched, wobbling before it dipped down in a furrow of distress. "I apologize, I thought I heard you suggest something completely idiotic and reckless but that couldn't be. You may be idiotic but you are not reckless." he said shrewdly and then, eyed Draco through the flame balefully. "Or, are you?"

He was challenging Draco's competency and questioning his favorite student status- Draco couldn't allow that, now could he?

"I am not being reckless. I've collected some Auror's hair for disguise and it's not as if I will be entering the Dark Lord's base. I will just be capturing his most weakest rat. It should be easy." Draco explained logically.

Severus glared at him, and with the flame surrounding his form, it made a fierce match. "Did I not tell you to stop being rash? What will you do if you get caught? Leave Peter Pettigrew alone, he is not your business."

"He is." insisted Draco, eyes softening as he gazed pleadingly at his mentor. "It is, Severus and I need your help. I don't want you to do much, just tell me where I can find the rat and I'll take him out."

"Pettigrew," said Severus after a slight pause. "is an utter coward. He hides behind the Dark Lord's robes so he won't be killed because as you can tell, he has made lots of enmity. And the Dark Lord keeps him by his side because he enjoys the fear. It makes him feel in control. You cannot reach Wormtail, he's too fast and can slip past you without you even knowing. And if he finds out your identity-"

"I told you, I'll be using-"

"Polyjuice Potion-" Severus interrupted. "-doesn't work for long. It will wear out without you knowing and then, you'll be facing the Dark Lord's wrath. He won't leave you alone if he finds out your betrayal." by his tone alone, nobody would guess that Severus was actually worried about him. He always seemed to have total control of any situation but Draco had seen first-hand the fear and worries reflected behind his dark, haunted eyes.

Draco frowned, thinking about it. "Is there anyway that Pettigrew can get his paws away from the Dark Lord for just a moment? You know, he can't always be by the Dark Lord's side, that would just be... weird."

_How can he stand it, even?_

"He hides where he can. He's a rat." drawled Severus slowly. Draco heaved the urge to roll his eyes and nodded solemnly, in an act of defeat. Obviously, he wasn't getting any help from his favorite Professor now.

"Alright, Professor. I'll find how I can do this on my own." Draco said with a heavily drawn sigh. He was about to shift in a gesture of closing the firecall when Severus stopped him:

"Wait." Draco did, looking not-quite-so expectantly as Severus debated with himself before asking: "Is this really so important to you?" Draco raised his eyebrows but didn't get the chance to even open his mouth when Severus interrupted:"I am aware it's Potter's affection you are after through Pettigrew, you brat. Don't even try to act as if you don't care."

Draco paused, eyeing the man with obvious displeasure growing on his face. "If you know that it's important then-"

"Is Potter really so important, Draco?" Severus said, causing Draco's eyes to widen. "What if what you feel for him is just your imagination? A false belief? Something you put into your mind for whatever insane reason."

"Well," Draco began, swallowing. "I can't know for sure, can I? At least, not until he wants me back."

Severus' eyebrows furrowed, wrinkling his forehead before he quirked them in a knowing way "This is a surprise."

"What?" Draco asked, a bit defensive.

"No. It's not a surprise." his godfather decided, grimacing at Draco through the flames. "I always knew you were one to save yourself first. But what is a surprise is that the feeling you have for Potter I had thought you had for him are not apparently, infatuation but - " his frown went further down as if he tasted something bad on his tongue and he spoke: "- love."

Draco stared at him.

"Yes, I agree with you; what were you thinking?" Severus said, looking like he didn't know whether to be displeased or amused.

"I'm not - " Draco stammered, feeling a bit at a lost. "I- I- I'm generally not this- but I can't- I mean-"

Severus quirked a brow to tell him just how foolish Draco was looking, contradicting himself when the answer was quite obvious to the whole universe, or at least, to Severus Snape. And Draco did feel like an idiot so he bowed his head in shame and Severus abruptly cut the awkward tension off with:

"I will help you with your- operation." Severus said. "Nothing quite so extravagant, since I hate Black more than Pettigrew. But let's just say, your father will be returning with company."

"Oh," Draco said, blinking.

"I have to leave now." said his godfather and they bid farewell to each other.

-0-

Peter Pettigrew wasn't disguised as a rat when he came with his father. Lucius Malfoy looked specifically pissed off at having a disgusting rat by his side since he was forced to take on Wormtail, for the Dark Lord (Severus, _his beautiful_ Potions Professor, had suggested subtly). Through the entire journey, just out of spite, he had hexed Pettigrew a few times who had yelped in pain and whimpered but remained standing like a good little boy.

Draco greeted his father and informed him of mother's departure. Lucius didn't seem to care and went off to wash away the dirt from his missions. He didn't like doing work, he had money so he invested on things of importance (meaning, binding more connections with important people in the Ministry) but the Dark Lord had brain-washed him so much so that his father proclaimed to_ like_ doing the Dark Lord's dirty deeds.

As Draco and Pettigrew were left alone, Draco eyed Pettigrew with visible ire while the rat tried to chat him up.

"H-How are you? You are Lucius' son, aren't you? You're so pretty." Pettigrew commented and then, flinched as Draco quirked a brow. "I mean, handsome. You're so handsome, l-like your father."

"You don't have to compliment me." Draco said with a casual shrug as he turned around, away from the rat's disgusting face. "I know I'm pretty." he smirked and left with a high, haughty posture.

He would wait until the right time. It wasn't the right method to just off Pettigrew; that would prove nothing. He would have to send him off to the Ministry and through an Auror's hands. He knew he could trust Tonks or Kingsley Shackelbolt with it but the question was when. He didn't have long before September would come and he had to go to Hogwarts for another year of gossip, torture, and Potter. The least useful thing he could do was this.

-0-

John Dawlish's planner was a little too easy to get and Draco marveled at his ability to be so sneaky and amazing behind an Auror's back. But it was probably because Dawlish was the worst Auror in the history of Aurors. It was a shame for the man but Draco had taken over his position with ample success. The man was busy getting a golden molar on his jaw (he had Obliviated the man and sent him to a Muggle dentist for an hour or so. It was wonderful) when Draco resolved to strike. He polyjuiced himself into Dawlish and captured Wormtail as he was scurrying across the field of the Manor in his Animagus form. It was technically not allowed for an Auror to enter the premises of the Manor without a warrant but his father was asleep and his mother was at France. The only one who had seen an Auror in the Estate was a complete buffoon and the criminal.

He had readied his own special cage for the rat if he turned into one; he had even learned this super-nice trick to stop a rat from running off without a sign. It was a planned-ahead mission and it was a success the moment Draco Apparated to the Ministry Entrance and entered Level Two with Peter Pettigrew carried in a cage.

"Hey, Dawlish. What have you got there?" asked a folk as he passed him by.

"An unregistered Animagus. Found him running around a while ago." Draco informed quickly, not stopping at all. With his quick strides, he was in Auror's Headquarters in no time and entering Tonk's office in a rush. Tonks looked up from her work at his entrance and eyed him and the rat respectively.

"What's that?" She said, pointedly looking at the cage.

He walked to her and handed her the cage. She looked puzzled so he smiled tightly and said: "Peter Pettigrew, a gift for you. Take care not to lose him. I'm out." He walked over to the fireplace at the corner. "Can I use your fireplace?" he asked, in a hurry. He could feel the tingling of his skin and knew that the potion was running out of time.

"Uh- wait, Dawlish. What-?" Tonks paused, looking more closely at him as he looked at her in return. "Oh. Oh yeah. Sure, use the fireplace."

"Thanks." He said and murmured _Malfoy Manor_ under his breath. Flames engulfed around him and he was back in his own house. He looked around, finding it empty and Apparated to his room quickly. Then, he stopped and paced to the fireplace. It was still, there was no firecall yet and there shouldn't be. Draco didn't know what he was dreading and expecting the most but he stayed on alert the whole time, walking back and forth between the fireplace and four-poster bed as the potion slowly wore off him and his slim body was left in the long, loose garb Dawlish preferred to wear. It was too long a wait where Draco ordered the House-Elf to bring him tea to calm his nerves and wore more suitable clothing that he finally got a firecall from Tonks.

"What were you thinking?" she had recognized him from the curls of blond that were showing up from Dawlish's disguise. Tonks was naturally good at disguise but she was also good at telling a person apart and she had seen Malfoy's hair plenty of times to tell who he really was. She assured him that Wormtail was too terrified and confused to notice the slip of the potion but that he should have been more careful. "The poor guy cried the whole time as he confessed, through Veritaserum that he was the one who betrayed the Potters and framed Sirius Black for it. The Wizengmont are now making a decision but it's pretty much a given; Sirius will finally be innocent."

"That's - good." Draco said hesitantly, thinking it was a bit too easy to do. What if his father noticed Dawlish's clothes in his wardrobe? He should burn the evidence.

"That was pretty clever of you, though reckless. I didn't know Slytherins like you were capable of such a thing." Tonks commented. Then, she paused and looked away for a moment as new voices came from the door. "Er," she turned to Draco again. "I have to leave. Look, you should come and visit the HQ. Dumbledore would probably appreciate it and I'll be there too. Shackelbolt wants to ask a few questions but either way, you'll be fine."

"You told Shackelbolt?" Draco asked incredulously, though he shouldn't be surprised.

"What? Was it a secret?" she asked dubiously.

The Slytherin shook his head. "No. I guess it's not." he sighed. "I should have planned this better."

"You couldn't have done a more better job, for a fourteen-year old."

"Fifteen." he interrupted.

"Well, whatever. You've done great but now, it's time for me to leave and sort this mess out. You, go to the Headquarters. I'll meet you there." she said, standing up and the firecall was cut off before he could get his final words come across, which were unnecessary since he already knew the answer:

"Do I have to?"

That was before he knew Potter was at the Headquarters.

-0-

They were sorting out the house again, and trying unsuccessfully to get into the meetings which Mrs. Weasley and Lupin had warned them off of. Harry had recently seen the tapestry of the House of Blacks and Sirius had explained the biased and conservative way Purebloods like Blacks thought of muggle-borns. There were still news that were coming and going through to them by the help of Fred and George's Extendable Ears but they weren't letting them know much and Mrs. Weasley was becoming suspicious of their cover-ups.

Sirius had found Kreacher lurking around, hiding old artefacts under his loincloth again and was yelling at him, much to Hermione's disapproving expression. Harry had found one of those silver objects crawling on the furniture of the dining room and meant to crush it when George stopped him with a: "Shh. These might come in handy." he said while surreptitiously keeping it in a white pack like he had Fred had done with other bugs and Doxys.

Harry cast an amused look at them and then, turned back to spraying on the table before scrubbing it with a dirty rag. He looked around. Nobody was actually doing the cleaning, except Mrs. Weasley and Hermione. Ron was watching Sirius and Kreacher's confrontation with a bemused expression and Fred and George were sneaking conversation throughout the cleaning and snatching off unknown objects for their experiments.

Just as Sirius kicked Kreacher out for his last comment, the door bell rang and Mrs. Black's portrait awoke, hollering at a high-pitched tone: "'Filth! Scum! By-products of dirt and vileness! Half-breeds, mutants, freaks, be gone from this place!"

"Oh, for-" Sirius sighed, torn between frustration and exhaustion.

Mrs. Weasley walked out and went for the door as Harry and Ron exchanged looks and Ron rolled his eyes. Sirius walked out too, muttering something about shutting his 'mother' up. Fred and George went for the entrance, checking for who came at this time of the night. Ron and Harry moved too, curious to see.

A minute later as Mrs. Weasley opened the door, they heard her through the screeching of Mrs. Black's portrait: "Oh Lupin, you're here quick. I thought you had-"

"-dore's called a meeting." Lupin's voice came from the distance.

"- but so suddenly? What happ-?" asked Mrs. Weasley, sounding bewildered.

"Molly." they heard a second voice: it was Mr. Weasley. "We don't know yet but all members have been notified, by what we know."

And just as they entered the dining room, door-bells started ringing through the house and so, Mrs. Black couldn't calm down and members from the Order kept walking in. It was chaos. Harry hadn't ever seen this many people entering the House all at once. He saw Snape among those people but the man gave one cold look to him and his gang before he moved on to the room for the meeting.

"Something's up." Fred said, an interested look on his face.

"Obviously." Ron said, looking at all the people milling in.

"We have to find out." George said with a grin. He turned to his twin and they did a determined nod.

Sirius and Mrs. Weasley were talking in a hushed way with Lupin and Mr. Weasley. Mad-Eye Moody was the only one who stopped by to give them anything, which wasn't much.

"Dumbledore's found something interesting that went on at the Ministry. He hasn't said anything. Wants to announce it when everyone gathers." Mad-Eye said with his normal eye roving over the members.

"Oh, we have got to get this." Fred said with laugh.

"Sounds like something big." George rubbed his hands, looking mischievous. CRACK. They apparated. Ron looked at where they were and shook his head.

"You know," Hermione said conversationally, who had joined in some time later. "If it's something big, Dumbledore has to tell us."

Except for the time where Sirius had spared them a few details about what Voldemort was up to, there wasn't anything to be known because Mrs. Weasley had been so cautious to let them in on the news. And even Sirius had agreed on keeping it a secret.

"From all the fuss they're making, it looks big." said Ron, looking impressed.

Harry blinked as the door-bell rang and saw Mrs. Weasley going to open the door. Almost all the members were there (including Professor McGonnagall) except Kingsley, Tonks, and Dumbledore.

"It's good news!" announced Tonks as she entered, walking in with Kingsley and Mrs. Weasley following right behind. Everyone turned, startled to her as she reached Harry and his friends. "You're going to be so happy, Harry and- Oh." she spotted Sirius and seemed to be fighting with herself to go to him. They stared at her. Noticing their eyes on her, she winked at the three. "You'll find out soon enough."

"Well, that's good to hear." Ron said, relieved like Harry that at least, not everything was being kept from them.

Tonks beamed and then, seemed to be looking around, her gaze searching and almost anxious. For a moment, her gaze froze at Snape but then, she snapped it away from him and looked around some more before giving up.

"Who're you looking for?" Harry asked.

She started before glancing at him. She seemed to look like she was debating whether to tell him or not. Then, she leaned into him and Ron and Hermione came near too.

"You haven't seen someone unusual come in?" she queried in a low voice. They furrowed their brows and looked at each other. "Not anyone suspicious or anything. Just-"

"Tonks." Kingsley interrupted her description of whoever the unusual person was. They looked to him and found to their surprise, Dumbledore dressed in a silver-blue robe, his beard tall and glowing white standing with Kingsley.

"Well, never mind." Tonks said as she straightened up and walked over to where they stood.

"Looks like Tonks and Kingsley know." came Fred's voice from behind them.

"Where did you come from?" Ron demanded, looking around him. They hadn't heard the noise of their returning Apparation.

They waved him off. "We just tried to listen to some of them but they don't seem to know anything." George informed.

"Obviously, Tonks and Kingsley are from the Ministry so they have to know." Hermione said. Harry nodded.

"Well, that doesn't give us anything. I mean, there could be many reasons why there's such a commotion." Fred said, unimpressed as the members of the Order started to fill inside the meeting room, including Tonks and Dumbledore.

Minutes later, Mrs. Weasley walked over to them, looking confused and a bit concerned. "Dumbledore's called for you."

"Us?" Hermione and the others were obviously startled. They weren't ever invited to the meetings.

"Where?" the twins asked enthusiastically at the same time.

Mrs. Weasley looked disturbed by their enthuasiasim and glared at them. "Behave." she gritted out before gesturing to the meeting room.

"Oh yeah!" they laughed and ran for the entrance of the meeting room. Harry watched them, amused as he too followed right behind.

"This is great, Harry. I knew we could trust Dumbledore to let us know something of importance." Hermione said as they caught up to the twins.

Fred scoffed a laugh. "It must be something he can't hide from us."

George grinned. "I bet, by tomorrow, it'll be headlines on the _Daily Prophet_."

"If you don't want to hear it, don't come. Go to sleep." Mrs. Weasley told them fiercely. Ginny had gone to sleep tonight a bit early, she'd probably be the only who would be missing the commotion.

Fred put a hand on his chest. "And wait for the whole day?"

"Never!" the twins said together as they reached the Headquarters room. The place was filled; some wizards were sitting and some were chatting away at the corner. Dumbledore sat at the head of the long table and stood up as Harry and the others were seen come in. All the members stopped talking as if on cue and sat down on respective seats. The twins went to sit with Mundungus Fletcher. Harry and the rest looked to Mrs. Weasley for directions but even she looked confused about whether they should sit or stand. So, they just stood at the doorway, looking at the members uncomfortably who cast them a curious glance before turning to Dumbledore again.

"Now," Dumbledore began. "Today, a certain individual from the Ministry has helped us capture a Death Eater whose-" he paused, looking pointedly at Sirius. "been known to be a traitor to many of us."

Sirius tensed and almost stood up. "Peter?"

Dumbledore stared at him and everyone seemed to be holding their breath as he moved his head in assent. Harry breath hitched, a place in his heart opening up in breath-taking relief as he processed the idea in a hopeful light. The giddy happiness that filled him at the news couldn't be described. In a few minutes, the people in the room had started to talk amongst one another.

"It has been known to the Ministry that John Dawlish is the one who has captured Peter Pettigrew when he was in his Unregistered Animagus form." Dumbledore went on as the others quieted down. "He was handed to Auror Tonks who then, proceeded to hand him over to the Head Auror, Scrimgeour. They put him in a room and took his confession, via Veritaserum." He looked to Sirius with a smile. "The Wizengmont had a conference on the new details and they have decided to clear Sirius Black's name."

"WOO!" The twins hooted from their seat. Some of the members laughed cheerfully and patted Sirius' back, congratulating him.

"We should thank this Dawlish person, then." Fred suggested loudly.

Dumbledore gave him an amused look. "Well, don't get hasty there. It wasn't Dawlish himself who had captured Peter Pettigrew."

"Then, who?" Harry blurted. He couldn't help himself. Whoever did this-

Dumbledore gave him a calm look. This was probably the first time he was looking at Harry over summer. "It was-"

The doorbell rang just then. Mrs. Weasley looked alarmed at the door.

"There shouldn't be-" she said, troubled and looking to Dumbledore.

Dumbledore just smiled mysteriously. "Oh, but there is one more person."

Suddenly, Snape stood up from his seat. "May I?"

Dumbledore looked to him. "Yes, Severus." he nodded. Snape nodded back and turned to walk to the door. Harry and the others got out of his way as he left through the door and to the entrance of the house.

"Who is that person?" Harry whispered to Hermione who was standing right beside him.

"Don't you remember, Harry?" she asked, her eyes going from each and every member as if she was mentally counting them in her head. "He visited this place once but didn't return. Fred and George scared him off."

Harry's eyes widened in recognition.

"Or, he just can't stand the dirt in this place." Ron said. "Can't blame him. How many Doxys do you think we have found on this place? And those creepy artefacts floating around? He hadn't even seen Mrs. Black's portrait shouting yet and the prat ran away. Goes to show what freaks these purebloods are."

"Ron." scolded Hermione. "He's on our side now."

"Yeah, but old habits die hard, don't they?" Ron said rhetorically.

Snape entered then, followed by Malfoy who had his head down like the time Harry had come back from being tortured by Voldemort. He saw some members whispering to each other at his entrance but others stared stock-still, looking like they were expecting him.

"Nice of you to join us, Mr. Malfoy." Dumbledore said as Malfoy looked up and fixed his eyes head-straight. "We were just getting to the part where you disguised yourself into Auror John Dawlish, Obliviated him, and caged Peter Pettigrew all by yourself."

Harry's heart skipped a beat too fast and he looked to his friends who gave just as baffled looks.

"What?" Ron blurted in a low voice. There was another wave of murmur from the table. The twins started laughing.

"I had help." Malfoy said, looking really uncomfortable with all the eyes on him. "If Severus hadn't suggested to Vold-" when Mrs. Weasley, Ron and some other's breath hitched at the name, he paused. "the Dark Lord that Pettigrew should go with father. Father probably wouldn't have brought Pettigrew with him to the Manor. It's because he was that close that I was able to plan my way into the Ministry with him."

"Yes, Yes. Severus has been a big help." Dumbledore said with a nod, looking proud as he looked to Snape. Snape's face was ice-cool. "Well, because of that, Tonks was able to get the truth out from him. He confessed that Voldemort has returned. Once that was out, Scrimgeour interrogated him more of the matter and he told them of all that happened."

Even Malfoy looked surprised at the news, more surprised than anyone else. The others were just happy to know that such an advantage was given.

"Now, Fudge was a bit defiant to the idea but he couldn't deny the proof when it was a confession through Truth Serum. Scrimgeour is pleading for an investigation of the case and it seems they are questioning Pettigrew of the names of all the Death Eaters he knows. They're having trouble figuring out a way for him to talk, due to the matter that he fainted and tried to run two times but I can assure you that we will have more to work with through the names of most of the suspects they've found until now."

"M-my father too?" Malfoy enquired, looking scared and worried.

Dumbledore stopped and looked at him kindly. "Your father's name was the first one and then, some others." he looked pointedly at Snape that moment, which implied that his name was among the Death Eaters. "I will go to the Ministry tomorrow and have a talk with Fudge."

"Wait." Malfoy said. "Wait." he stepped back and looked at the floor. He was the only one there who was looking anything but happy about the news. "I- I- not tonight, right? They won't come for father tonight?"

Harry finally understood what the Slytherin was feeling and sympathised some. It must be hell to have a person who was your father go down and yet, why was he helping them when obviously, he loved his father so? Harry was puzzled and so were his friends by the look on their faces.

"The Ministry is processing some of the news. Since Lucius Malfoy gives funds to the Ministry, it's hard to tell if the higher-ups will warrant his arrest but we do want all the proof we can get that Voldemort is back for good." Dumbledore explained.

Malfoy swallowed. "I see."

Unexpectedly, Snape put a hand on his shoulder in a comforting gesture before he abruptly took it off, and walked away from Malfoy to sit on his seat again.

"Now that the young ones have heard all they needed." Snape said curtly. "We need to discuss other topics."

"What?" the twins moaned. "No!"

Dumbledore nodded. "I'm sorry but we will keep you up-to-date to anything new." he said to Harry and the gang.

"Noo." the twins said. Mrs. Weasley called their name and gave them a stern look. "Aww, mum." She glared at them some more and they looked to Mr. Weasley for some help. Mr. Weasley only shook his head and they sulked but gloomily stood up and turned to walk out the door. Harry, Hermione, and Ron shared a grimace and walked out, with Harry giving one last glance to where Sirius sat with his back turned to them.

The door closed to them and they went to the drawing room to chat some more, waiting for the meeting to be over so they could celebrate with Sirius. Mrs. Weasley would have one or two things to say about how late they were up but she was inside, for the meeting so they were free to do whatever.

"So, what do you think?" said Fred, lying flat down on the ground with his legs up. That was a better place than the armchairs and so, Harry and Hermione joined him. They sat around him with their legs crossed. "Do you think this is a good thing?" when they moved their mouth to answer him, he added: "Ignoring Sirius' freedom for a moment."

"Definitely." Hermione replied quickly. "We've been targeting this from the start. Now, we won't have any reason to hide what happened with Harry in Hogwarts."

"And it's about time we're included in their meetings." George said chirpily.

"I see Malfoy is still there, huh?" Fred said, looking at the door. "I have to wonder what made him do it."

"Well, Pettigrew was obviously in his house, wasn't he? So-" Hermione tried to explain Malfoy's unusual behavior.

"Didn't you hear?" George interrupted. "Malfoy said he had help. Meaning, he was planning this from the start."

"That's- " Hermione paused, a look of deep contemplation on her face.

Ron frowned, taking over for her: "That's odd, concerning Malfoy didn't seem to like Sirius and neither did Sirius."

"Maybe, he secretly has the hots for Sirius." shrugged Fred. Hermione blushed red and bile stuck on Harry's throat as he swallowed. Ron scrunched his nose.

"Or, it's because he's got a crush on Sirius' godson." George said, looking at Harry with a grin. This time, it was Harry who blushed. The twins laughed outright at that.

"What I want to know is what's going on in the Ministry at the moment." Hermione said, determinedly ignoring the twins. "I hope that they don't let Lucius Malfoy go. From what I've heard, he's claimed innocence the last time through lying that he was under the Imperius Curse. He could claim the same again."

"Doubt it's gonna work a second time." Fred said.

"And if he's believed, at least Dumbledore'll be sure to make the Aurors try him for the Truth Serum." George said. "We can find all the dirty work Voldemort's been doing and prove to the Ministry that their worst nightmare is back."

"I expect that's what they're talking about in there." Hermione said, gesturing at direction of the meeting room.

"Seems likely. Probably talking about what they're going to do next." Fred guessed.

"Sounds fun." George remarked.

They talked a bit now and then, but it was mostly quiet. It was a long wait before the whole mass departed from the conference room. Dedalus Diggle came and greeted Harry through the milling crowd, and some other members did too but it was too late at night that not many of them stuck by to stay. Lupin and Sirius remained and Harry hadn't yet seen Malfoy out yet so he guessed the boy was still inside with Dumbledore.

Sirius finally turned from talking to a wizard to Harry and smiled hugely.

"Congratulations." Harry said and Sirius opened his arms as Harry swooped in and hugged him, smiling wide. "Does this mean we can live together now?" he asked expectantly, looking up at him through the hug.

"Well, first, I have to go the Ministry tomorrow to get a second trial but it's just a formality so, hopefully, things will go well." they split apart and Sirius grinned as Fred and George swooped in for a hug too.

"Congratulations, you're free!" they wooted.

"Thank you." Sirius said and then, continued to Harry. "Second, I have to talk to Dumbledore. There are still things concerning your safety at hand." Harry nodded, understanding but still a bit apprehensive at the idea of still having things to do in case of getting rid of the Dursleys for good. This summer hadn't been any good or bad compared to the others. If only, Harry had been avoiding them more excessively though, that didn't quite work well and he and Dudley got into a fight that one time where he had gotten a bit angry and frustrated at the lack of news from his friends. Mr. Dursley sure had been furious over that. He had threatened to throw Harry out but in the end, it was just a bluff. Harry would have gone happily, if only, of course. He missed Hogwarts; where he could at the common room with his friends and just hang out and flying in the sky. Last year, there wasn't House Quidditch Cup because of the Tri-wizard Tournament but now, hopefully things would be a bit better.

"Sirius." Lupin said from behind them. When they turned, he had his arms open wide as he smiled. "I'm sorry for the lateness." Sirius laughed and hugged him like a cherished brother. "I'm happy for you." Lupin said feelingly, giving a smile to Harry as well from the side. Harry grinned back and turned to his friends who smiled with him.

"We should have a party." Tonks said from behind Lupin and as Lupin and Sirius turned to look at her. She was wearing pale-blond hair, now that Harry noticed. Just like Draco's.

"No. No parties. Ginny's already gone to sleep and it's been hell shutting up Mrs. Black so, no parties." Mrs. Weasley paused before breaking into a smile. "Until tomorrow."

"Mum, you're incredible!" hollered George as the twins went and hugged her.

"Oh, dear. Now, keep quiet or the portrait will wake up again and you certainly don't want that." Mrs. Weasley said, fighting off her amusement. She turned to Sirius and gave him a one-armed hug before patting him warmly on the shoulder. "I'm so happy for you. I hope everything goes well, Sirius."

"Thank you, Molly." said Sirius and she left to the kitchen after another pat on his shoulder.

"I'm surprised Ginny hasn't woken up yet. With all the noise that's been-." Fred mused aloud and just then, Ginny's voice came from the stairs.

"Yes, you've ended up waking me, in the end." Ginny said, coming down the stairs. "What's going on?" she asked as she looked around and spectated Tonks, Lupin, and Sirius. She was too late. All the people in the Order had left or some were still in there, discussing with Dumbledore. Harry was now sure he hadn't seen Snape out either so he must be inside. Two Slytherin spies and Dumbledore. Harry sure wanted to hear on the end of their side.

"You've missed half the show." laughed Fred and put an arm around her as she walked to the gang. "Well, first thing first, Sirius' criminal status is being lifted. He will be a free man tomorrow! It's just a matter of another trial and tada!"

Ginny looked at Sirius and put a hand to her mouth as her eyes widened in surprise. "Oh my god!" she turned to the twins again. "How?" yes, it was the baffled stage they all had gone through. _How could it happen?_ But then, they all started to explain to her happily and she listened while her face turned from confused to bright red with elation. "Oh, that's great!" she said, looking at Sirius and the ex-convict nodded, looking content with taking everyone's happiness for him.

There was a clearing of throat from behind them, and as they turned, Malfoy and Snape stood before them with the latter looking their nose down them in a superior way and the first with crossed arms and a serious expression.

"Well then." Snape said, looking at Malfoy. "I will see you later."

Malfoy blinked and nodded as Snape turned and walked out of the narrow entrance hall and out of the door. As the door slammed shut, Malfoy raised an expectant eyebrow at the residents of the place. He wasn't looking at Harry specifically, but at everyone so Harry took his time to stare at him. Malfoy looked changed; not personality-wise, physically. He looked paler than before, as if that could ever happen with his complexion and his hair had come out the front in bangs which made him look less pointy and more everywhere else.

Just as Ron was about to look like he was opening his mouth to talk, Dumbledore stepped out of the room. He took a look at all the residents and smiled. "How are you, Sirius?" he walked up to said-person as Sirius nodded. "Well, I must ask you a favor. This boy here-" he gestured to Malfoy. "-will stay the night in here. Would that be alright?"

"Oh." Sirius said before nodding. "Sure. Anything for you."

"Good. Now, Draco." he turned to Malfoy who was uncomfortably rubbing up his arms in the distant corner. "Don't leave till the morning."

"Yes." Draco answered, not looking at Dumbledore or anyone for that matter.

"Then, I will take my leave." said Dumbledore as he gave a last smile at Harry and his friends before walking away. At least, Dumbledore wasn't ignoring Harry anymore cause' it mostly had seemed weeks ago that he had been.

"Black," began Malfoy, breaking the tense silence Dumbledore's departure had brought. Sirius looked his way as Malfoy straightened up. "Potter." he looked to Harry who started in surprise, not expecting him to be regarded at all. But then, Malfoy was turning to Ron. "Weasleys. Granger." he nodded one-by-one to all of them. "Lupin." they were all looking at Malfoy now, curious to see what he would say. "Let's form a truce. You wanted proof of my allegiance, I have done so. Hell, I've put my family's assets to jeopardy and if that doesn't last, I need a solid base I can stand on." he said, looking bitter and lost for a person who knew things Harry deserved to know. "I don't want any lingering doubt in your mind if I want to work with you."

"Depends. Would you tell us what's being discussed in the meetings?" Fred asked, mirthful.

Draco snorted. "Doubt there's anything of merit to you guys"

"Would you call us by our first name?" that was George.

"And let us call you by yours?" Fred followed.

Draco looked surprised and turned a quirked eyebrow at them. "Why would you want that?"

"Because it just makes you sound like a stranger." Fred explained. George continued: "And Malfoy just sounds snobby, like your father."

Draco's eyebrows went up before he gave a twisted smile. "That's your conditions?"

"We have more." the twins chirped.

"Sure, sure. Why not?" shrugged Malfoy and then, paused as Sirius walked over to him. He gave Sirius a dry look. "I didn't do this for you."

Sirius brought up a hand, not to hit Malfoy as the boy had thought it would be for, but to shake his hand. "I guessed as much. You did it for the Order. I thank you for that."

Malfoy eyed the hand for a moment before he snorted, shaking Sirius' hand with a slight smirk on his face as his eyes lighted up with energy. Hermione and Harry exchanged looks before she moved to the front with an excited look on her face.

"I knew you could do it, kiddo." said Tonks as Black led Draco to them with a hand on the Slytherin's back. Tonks seemed to recognize him and affectionally ruffled his blond hair with a smile. "Always wanted to do that."

"Hey!" Draco said, looking annoyed at having his hair messed with and smiled as he saw that Tonks had the same hair-color as him. "What? Got tired of green?"

Tonks shook her head. "Just wanted to know they felt like. Can't feel the same thing though. Your hairs are so soft, what do you put on them?"

Draco gave her a weird look and rolled his eyes before he turned only to find Hermione standing right before him. She had a hand out ready for him to take too.

He raised a brow as she beamed up at him. "What?" he asked, looking befuddled. "Is this your way of saying you forgive me for being a prat and now, we can start anew? You know, it wasn't that big a deal: I just captured a useless rat and transported him to the Ministry. Big deal."

"Draco Malfoy not taking credit for his own deeds." gasped Fred mockingly.

"Boy, is that news." snickered George.

Hermione shook her head. "It's a start." she insisted. Draco sighed exasperatedly, though not in a mean way, Harry noted, and shook Hermione's hand.

"I hope you're satisfied, Granger." Draco muttered, looking pained at the hand-shake as if the whole idea was lame.

"It's Hermione." she said, giving him a warning look.

"Hermione." said Malfoy with a grimace.

"Well, keep em' coming cause'-" Fred started.

"We're next." finished George.

Draco gave a horrified look at them and they pulled him in as he protested while Harry and Hermione laughed in the background. Sirius and Lupin, not far behind. Ron reluctantly shook Draco's hand like all of them did (even Lupin and Ginny). And when it came to Harry's turn (who was last for the reason that Malfoy hadn't looked at him once), suddenly Ginny and Hermione were dead quite and the twins were making abhorrent noises as they shook hands.

"Oh come on, kiss him!" they goaded as Harry looked awkwardly at Draco who was still not meeting his eyes. Feeling a spike of irritation, Harry squeezed hard on Malfoy's hand whose eyes froze on the side of Harry's face and flitted up slowly to stare straight into him. For a moment, Harry regretted ever wanting that gaze on him because it burned. It reminded him of the time at the train. The moment where their lips touched and their eyes met and they spoke through lips to each other. It was that moment that Harry relived once again when facing those eyes and abruptly, he took his hands away, as if electrified. Draco looked on in surprise, his eyes still on Harry who was the one now avoiding meeting eyes but soon after, he was looking away too as the twins talked of something.

But Harry couldn't pay attention to half the words. His heart was thrumming wildly and he was still thinking about that piercing gaze. After coming to his senses, he glanced at Ron and Hermione who were watching him, one looking thoughtful and the latter looking concerned before she covered it up with a smile.

Harry looked away soon after and that was that. Then, there was the matter that he had to talk to Malfoy. He knew he did but he just didn't think it was the right time. He would wait for the right time. Wait.

Later that night, the twins sneaked in and Fred said this:

"You have to talk to him tonight."

"Why?" asked Ron for him though Harry's face must have made it obvious that he was wondering the same.

"Well, I think it's obvious. You're the one he fancies so, you get to be the truce leader." George explained though, it made no sense.

"We've already made a truce." sputtered Ron.

"Yeah, but it won't be wrong to keep a check on him so he doesn't betray us later on." Fred whispered.

"We've got big competetion: father vs. Harry. Who will he choose in the end, you think?" George said with a grin. "He seemed to be looking like he would back out in the meeting. You have to see what's going on or we'll lose our chance once he leaves tonight."

"I-"

"Don't hesitate, Harry. You're the only one we can count on here." Fred pleaded.

"Hey!" Ron said indignantly.

"You can use your invisibility cloak here. No-one'll find out. Just get in Malfoy's guest room and-"

"Why can't you guys?" asked Harry. "Obviously you can Apparate there so, why me?"

There was a creaking nearby at the stairs as Harry guessed that Mrs. Weasley was walking up to check on them.

"Mum." Ron said.

Fred and George shared a dry look and pointed to the door. "That."

CRACK.

And the twins Disapparated back to their beds.

Ron settled into his bed as Mrs. Weasley's footsteps drew nearer and she listened close to their bedroom before moving on. When they thought, Mrs. Weasley was finally gone, Ron whispered to him:

"Are you going?"

Harry's teeth clacked together as he closed his mouth. "Should I?" he asked Ron.

Ron shifted his shoulder as a shrug under his blanket. "They're right. Malfoy would probably go home tomorrow and then, we won't have any lead for days on what will happen."

Harry thought about it and knowing that Malfoy wouldn't return for days if taking his last visit to this place under consideration, he sat up. "He won't be asleep, right?" he asked Ron just for assurance.

"Sure. It's been only a while and if he is, you could just wake him. He won't be that deep in sleep." Ron said from his bed at the bottom of the bunk. Harry nodded and climbed down the ladder before going and rummaging in his trunk for his cloak. Finding it in the dark, he spread it around and covered himself in it.

"I'm going." he told Ron while invisible and walked to the door. Opening it narrowly and as quietly as possible, he looked at where Mrs. Weasley was. The lights to the twins room were open and Mrs. Weasley seemed to be fixing her attention on them so Harry tip-toed his way past and across to where Malfoy was staying for the night. Looking around for anyone else, he opened the door and slipped inside, dreading the worst and yet, relieved to find that it was silent except for Malfoy's breathing as he slept.

_Have to wake him up, then. Great._


	22. Part II, chapter four: Consequences

** Title**: For the First time

**Author**: Mabu  
**Rating:** NC-17  
**Genre:** Romance, Angst, Humor, Adult, Violence.  
**Disclaimer**: Property of JK Rowling. Quotes from the book may be repeated in here since time is turning.**  
****Author's note: **I was hoping to make this a long chapter since I'll be leaving tonight for Kentucky to visit my cousins and it'll be crazy (I'll be watching HP 7 movie tomorrow with them), but seems like I've lost some of my juice. Worry not, I'll find the juice from somewhere. (I tried reading HP 5 again, it was horrible. I don't like Umbridge at all and Harry's reputation with the students just makes me feel pissed. You can be rest assured that this story will not have that kinda thing in it.)

* * *

**Chapter Four:**

**Despite Consequences**

"I can't sleep now, no, not like I used to  
I can't breathe in and out like I need to  
It's breaking ice.  
Now, to make any movement  
What's your vice?  
You know that mine's the illusion."

"_Goodbye, Apathy_"** by One Republic**

* * *

Draco had already woken up when Potter had called his name continuously: "Malfoy. Er, Malfoy? _Malfoy_." he tried calling many times in different version of tones, but Draco remained silently turned to his side, eyes closed and movement still; pretending to be asleep. He had a great stressful day today and he deserved some rest for it but apparently, Potter had other plans for the night since he thought it necessary to come here to, Draco could evidently guess, 'have a talk'. Draco knew what these pig-headed monkeys thought was somewhat of a reasonable plan for them but it bugged Draco that he couldn't even sleep here without getting attacked on.

The only upside was that it was Potter but he was just as stupid, if not stupider, as the Weasleys and they all made a nice pack of oblivious fools ready to give up their lives just for some bit of an _in_ on the action. Draco had anticipated it, but that didn't mean he would make this any easier for them and for Potter; It would be doubly hard.

"Malfoy." Potter had edged closer, still whisper-shouting and coming closer to Draco's place at the bed. He stopped there, Draco could guess because he didn't know if he should move close or edge away. The prat was still as awkwardly confused and idiotic as ever.

Then, after a long wait, Potter finally stepped close enough that Draco could feel his shadow hovering over him, and he knew that if he opened his eyes Potter would be there.

Even so, he kept his eyes shut and waited.

_(Alice's voice echoed in the unconscious part of his mind, droning like a tune that only dreams can play:_

_"Why him? Why him?")_

Potter said something unexpected, then. Draco knew he hadn't heard wrong but maybe, because it was said so low, he had doubts about whether it was true or not.

He didn't have to worry about not hearing right thought, because Potter said it again, much more audibly: "Draco."

And Draco was somewhere between oblivion and hell since his first name out of Potter's mouth was most likely, a_ dreamy_ hallucination.

_Get a grip._

THUMP.

_It's just a name. _

THUMP.

_It was part of the truce. _

THUMP.

"Draco," _he said it again. _"Come on, wake up." Draco couldn't believe his luck. From what he could feel and hear, he knew Potter's face was hovering inches above his. Suddenly, Potter was holding his shoulder and shaking him awake. "Draco. Hey."

Not able to pretend any longer, Draco opened his eyes with a snap. Potter, surprised and flustered by his abrupt awakening, took his hands away immediately as if scalded and then, went to stand up straight again.

"You're awake." Potter stated, his face going pensive as he pushed away other emotions that had been fluttering across his face when he had been staring at Draco.

Draco blinked sleepily and looked around the dark room before he lifted his head and sat up on the bed, staring at the sheets covering his body. He had just realized that he was naked except for his very tiny boxers under the covers. He looked up and stared at Potter whose face was hidden in the dark shadows of the night.

"Potter." Draco rasped, making himself sound more sleepy than he actually was. "What brings you here?"

Potter blinked and spoke quickly: "I need to-"

"talk? have a cookie? beat a Dragon?" Draco interrupted with a drawl. Potter's mouth shut at Draco's lethargic look. "I'm tired, Potter. Don't tell me you're actually here to talk. Coming here to kill me would be a better idea."

Potter swallowed before sitting down at the edge of Draco's bed, which was very close to Draco's legs. "I- I'm sorry but I thought you'd be leaving tomorrow so."

"Well, of course, I'd be." Draco replied, raking a hand through his hair. At least, he didn't toss and turn enough to cause a bad case of bed-head. He hated when that happened. "I only stayed here because Dumbledore thought it'd be a good idea if father thought I was out of the Manor when Pettigrew was captured. This way, he won't suspect me. Also, I think he'll be arrested tomorrow so, I need to be there."

Potter's eyes immediately turned sympathising after hearing that and Draco rolled his eyes at the boy. "I'm..." Harry began, looking torn between saying something and not before he said: "I'm not sorry that your father's getting arrested. But I'm sorry anyway."

"Uh-huh." Draco said, bringing a hand up to cover his mouth as he yawned. "That always helps, you know: the sympathy. Oh, the terror that has befallen the Malfoy family."

Potter raised a brow, bemused before he said: "You don't have to act like you don't care, you know. Nobody would blame you for that." Draco stared at him in surprise. "And even if you don't exactly care if your father goes to Azkaban, it's likely that being an only child, you'll have responsibilities."

"Wow, Potter. Who gave you a lecture on empathy?" Draco asked, acting shocked as he stifled a smile. "I would have thought an idiot like you would take years to learn what it truly feels like to be born in a family that follows the Dark side." Somehow, his tone had turned bitter along the lines and he stopped himself from ranting about the unfairness of it all.

Draco had known, somewhere deep, deep, deep in his heart that his father would be facing his crimes in Azkaban, again in this life-time but he had not been prepared. He had not foreseen what else Pettigrew's capture could have helped with but now that he knew, there were things he was horrified to have revealed. Because once Dumbledore told him that his father would be suspected as a Death Eater by the Ministry, the warning bells had started ringing and he was scared. For himself. For his father; the person whom he knew he loved too much.

He had mistakenly gotten too accustomed to be having a father again and losing his father over again was too much to take for him.

"Would you stop calling me an idiot?" Potter said, looking like he could see through Draco and wanted the tension to be dispersed. "I only came here to grow some peace between us. Since, we are going to be helping each other."

Draco frowned. "Right." he sighed, bending one leg under the sheets so that, the cloth stretched up and revealed his bare leg. "You called me by my first name." he stated matter-of-factly.

Potter's face that had been serious before, flushed abruptly. "I... you- you heard."

"I was awake the whole time." Draco revealed before giving a cheeky smile as Potter gaped at him. "I could feel you struggling with yourself: whether to go near or stay away from the kiss-snatcher. It was entertaining."

The Gryffindor glared at him. "You're making fun of me."

"And you're being a girl." Draco informed dryly. He sighed again and shifted to face Potter properly, which made half of the sheet that was covering his chest to fall until they were lying, folded in his lap. Potter's eyes popped out as he took in the nude state he was in and his eyes flitted to stare at Draco's nether regions before they lifted up and gave him a harassed look. Draco couldn't help but smirk. "You know, Potter. Your friends suggested something quite interesting the last time I came here."

"Wh-What was that?" Potter's eyes tried their very best to not look anywhere at Draco's naked chest or his bare legs but they seemed to have a mind of their own because occasionally, his eyes would fall on them for half a second before they'd leave in a half-baked attempt of acting as if he wasn't looking.

Draco moved so that his legs went under and the whole sheet fell away to reveal his bare-self, except the black boxers and he knelt on the bed so that he was facing Potter who was staring straight at Draco's groin. "That, I-" Draco said, coming close enough to whisper in Potter's ear. "-like you."

Potter breathed in and out unevenly before he asked: "Do you?"

Draco smiled and moved his head so that his nose touched Potter's cheek. Potter looked to be holding his breath as Draco parted his lips as if to reply.

"I'm not going to tell you." He said with a snicker and moved away from Potter, laying back on the bed with a grin on his face. "I'm a tease, Potter." He informed cheekily, hands crossed behind his head. "I don't answer if I don't get anything in return." Potter blinked blankly at him before comprehension dawned on his face. "And if you want to know if it's true, you have to give me something in return."

"And what's that?" Harry asked, eyes narrowing coldly as he watched Draco.

Draco's thin smirk must have been so obnoxious that Potter glared impatiently.

"Come here." Draco said exasperatedly, making Potter lose the viciousness in his eyes with a look of pure bewilderment.

"What?"

"I'm not going to repeat myself." said Draco while keeping from rolling his eyes as he opened his arms and legs wide.

Potter stared at him for a while, perhaps debating with himself whether it was a good idea to listen to Draco or not but then, he seemed to come out of his serious contemplation and moved his body towards Draco without another question or protest. It seemed he wanted to prove something with the way his eyes seemed stony and determined. Potter's broad shoulders seemed to blanket over Draco, his arms flexing on either side of Draco's head as the hands rested beside him, and he watched as Potter's bespectacled face came ever closer and closer.

"Is this what you wanted?" breathed Potter. "It's not a cuddle that you want this time, is that right?" his hands clenched by Draco's side. "You're the biggest liar I've ever seen, you know that? You do it so well that it's hard to know what's the truth. Whenever we try to find something out from you, you always find some way to distract us from questioning you further. You insult us and behind our backs, you save us. Why? I want to know why do you do that?"

Looked like Potter's bubble of frustration had a crossing limit and now, the bubble had been burst free. The Gryffindor was seriously pissed-off and Draco could only be too fascinated. He should probably retort but there were no words in his mouth that weren't full of confessions and he didn't do confessions. He may have resolved to change the future and go against the Dark Lord but he was still very much a coward when it came to admitting the truth. The lies had piled up on him and even Potter realized how contradictory his actions had been up until now.

"So, you're not going to answer?" Potter asked rhetorically when Draco's lips remained shut. "You're such a git, you know that? You and your stupid cronies and your stupid kissing-games and your-"

"Kiss me." Draco murmured; couldn't stop himself. Potter stopped whatever he was rambling about and was left with his mouth open in shock.

"What?"

"Avenge me. I stole your first kiss. You should punish me for it." Draco said in a rush, his lips dry with desire as he licked them wet. "I've been a pain-in-the-arse. I've lied, cheated, insulted you and have been a real git to all of your friends. Don't forgive me. Kiss me." His heart was beating fast, thudding loudly against his rib-cage and he felt insane and stupid for blurting all this out, but the desire only grew with his every word. "If you do, I'll stop lying."

"Why should I believe you?" Potter inquired, looking doubtful and slightly confused.

"Because- Because, Potter." Draco knew what he was about to say; he shouldn't say it. It was too early. He _couldn'_t say it but the words were on the tip of his tongue. _Don't. Don't Don't. Don't._

Potter's face was so close, so inquisitive, so curious. "Because?"

"Because I-" he gasped, choking on his own saliva as he gulped and looked away.

"Mal- Draco?" Potter whispered, his face hovering over Draco's cheek. "Draco?" he could feel Potter's breath on his skin, the warmth of his body as it pressed closer against him. "Are you- because what?"

Draco closed his eyes, gritting his teeth. _I'm pathetic. I can't do this. I can't do this. I'm not going to._

He heard Potter release a breath and felt him move away a bit. "Fine." he said.

Draco's eyes snapped open in a bit of panic and he grabbed Potter's shoulder, pulling him down lightly. Potter went down compliantly and stared at him.

"I- I can't answer. Not now." Draco said pleadingly, insisting with his eyes.

"Why not?" Potter asked, green eyes somber and serious.

Draco stared into those eyes and lost his breath as his mouth moved automatically to the tune playing inside his head: "Because I'm a coward."

Har- Po_tte_r blinked owlishly and his head lifted so that he could study Malfoy at a distance, as if that would make a difference in the desperate picture Draco made at the moment.

"Malfoy," Potter goggled faintly as he murmured those words and shifted as he took off his glasses and put them on the nightstand near the bed. "I won't do this just because you asked me to." Of course, Draco knew that. He was just trying his luck and following his instincts. There was no logical or rational reason for pleading Potter to kiss him at the moment. And it was quite a long-shot, he knew all too well. But why was Potter taking off his glasses and putting them away?

Surely not. Draco could not hope for it.

Before Draco could come to terms with the fact that yes, in fact, Potter was about to kiss him; Potter bent down to capture Draco's lips. Draco's mouth went slack in stunned incredulity and he gasped.

He didn't think Potter would do it.

And it was crazy; how every part of his skin throbbed tantalizingly when their lips met and how he didn't have to think about it as he moaned after Potter started moving his lips, gently like a wave at first before he grabbed at Draco's face and roughly meshed their lips together. His body's nerves was drumming up and down, rocking around and within Draco's body and for a while, they kissed like that, at a feverish pitch while Draco's bare chest touched Potter's cotton pyjama top and their bottom remained untouched.

They pulled away minutes later for dragging in heavy breaths as they eyed each other, their chest moving weightily under the panting. Potter's glazed eyes stared straight through him; lust in every breath he took in, but Draco was in a greater mess, he could see his face reflected in Potter's bare eyes and knew his face was red as a tomato.

"Should you have done that?" asked Draco, his voice shaky and breathy.

Potter's breath was as shaky and his bruised lips were parted as he blurted: "I'm not gay."

Draco raised a brow and looked to the night-stand on his right where Potter's glasses rested. Then, he looked back to give a dubious look-over to Potter who was being clearly contradicting but then, froze.

Potter's eyes were fixed on him, the look on his face of a mesmerized admirer; like he was fascinated by Draco's charms and couldn't look away. Draco's eyes widened as his heart accelerated at the new information. He wasn't a female at the moment. So, why was Potter looking at him that way? Was he drunk? High? Desperate for a lay?

_Who cares? He's yours to kiss for the moment._

They stared at each other. Then, slowly, they both moved their heads in sync and brought their lips together. Potter's mouth covered Draco's lips chastely and Draco responded in kind. Draco's toes curled in pleasure as their lips pressed together smoothly before Potter's hands came to get behind Draco's back. Draco arched his back, his hands going around Potter's neck and Potter's arms easily went around him as they held each other close while kissing imperceptibly.

CRACK.

Draco and Potter froze where they were and before they could turn their heads to look, one of Weasley twin's voice came out:

"Whoops."

"You know, we sent you over to confirm the truce, Harry." said the second twin in an amused voice while Potter and Draco dismantled from their position. "Not to snog him."

Potter seemed highly alarmed but Draco could only find a hint of relief and annoyance in their appearance. He knew if they moved any further, Draco's heart would be ripped into pieces.

"But, ah, snogging works well too." said the first twin, smirking.

-0-

After a restless night at Grimmauld Place, Draco woke up early in the morning and left while the residents of the house were sleeping. In the Manor, it was still too early for his father to be awake so, entering the main entrance, he quickly went to his own room and took a long shower there. Dumbledore had asked Draco to stay after the meeting was done and had told him that it would be better if his father thought that he was not at the house at the time when Pettigrew had been captured. Snape had stayed back to advise him to act casually and be careful if confronted with Lucius or other Death Eaters.

There was a high probability that Voldemort's followers worked for the Ministry and would have already informed Voldemort about Pettigrew's capture. Draco hadn't thought that just one useless Death Eater's capture could work to such advantage for the Order but it had and now, things were about to change. Things would be unpredictable.

The only comfort had been that he knew how things would be if his father were arrested by the Ministry. He could expect his mother to lock herself in a room and cry her heart out before she would come out with red eyes and tell Draco that-

"Shit." Draco murmured as he was changing into an appropriate attire.

A certain realisation hit him like a train wreck.

_"It's your fault. All your fault." _That's what she would say.

His mother wouldn't say: "I'm alright." like the last time to protect Draco from a certain bitter truth, because she would know. She would know that it was Draco who did it; who put his father's life to such jeopardy. And she would blame him because she loved her husband. These thoughts tormented his mind as he waited in his bedroom.

At breakfast time, he walked down the stairs and went to the dining hall where he found his father sitting there in his usual seat, reading the _Daily Prophet_. From the way his eyes roved over the front page article, Draco knew he was reading about Peter Pettigrew, but there was likelihood that Lucius Malfoy already expected whatever was written in the article. With the aloof way he was reading and sipping his tea, Draco knew he did expect this.

"Good morning, father." said Draco as he entered the dining hall and his father glanced at him.

"Draco," His father greeted as he folded and put away the newspaper. Draco sat to his left, and took a toast from the table, buttering it up lightly. "Where were you last night?"

Draco didn't tense or flinch though a part of him recoiled at the question. "Last night?" Draco repeated in a confused manner, continuing buttering up the toast. "Oh, I was at Blaise's for a party. He asked me to stay over for the night since it was late already." he explained and looked inquiringly at Lucius. "Why do you ask?"

His father glanced at the folded newspaper before he gave Draco a tight smile. "Seems Pettigrew went for a walk outside and was captured by an Auror." he informed. Draco widened his eyes in an act of surprise.

"That dirty rat? Well," Draco said nonchalantly. "I didn't like him anyway."

"You are right about that, Draco." said his father. "But that 'dirty rat' might have revealed some truth about the Dark Lord and his followers."

Draco gave a worried look at Lucius. "What? Why would he do that?"

"It wasn't a fault of his, I'm afraid." Lucius said. "He was to confess under the Veritaserum and he had never been trained to lie against it so he blurted who-knows what. Yaxley told me that Scrimgeour was keeping a tight lip on the matter but I'd be guessing that the rat had revealed some of the Death Eater's name."

Draco looked at him in shock. "Not you, of course. He wouldn't-"

"That is why I'm telling you this." his father interrupted tensely. "If the Ministry has any idea about the Dark Lord's location or us, Death Eaters, they will come to arrest us. That should bring us to a very tight spot. We had a meeting with the Dark Lord late at night and some of us who are well-known at the Ministry should at least, try to convince them that the Dark Lord has not returned and that, we are not Death Eaters."

"What about mum? She's still at France." asked Draco. "She should know about this."

"Everything will be fine. Some of the people at Wizengmont are one of us. We will have no trouble doing this if we can convince the Ministry that Pettigrew is insane and by his appearance alone, it certainly seems that way." Lucius said. "What I'm trying to say is that there is no problem at all so, you shouldn't worry about me and don't tell your mother or she will make a fuss about it. I've gotten out of it before, and I can do it again."

Draco stared at him for a while before he nodded, turning to look back at his breakfast. "Fine. I won't tell mother."

A warmth came to rest on his head. Draco didn't have to look up to know it was Lucius patting his head. "You are a son of mine. Do not fret over it. It will all be all right. The Dark Lord wouldn't let us fall apart again. He has risen again, Draco. He has come back, for us." His father's voice was awestruck as he described once again the horrible creature that was Voldemort in full detail as if he was something to worship over. Draco listened and smiled at his father encouragingly but inside, the warmth he had felt when his father had put a hand on him faltered into disappointment. His father couldn't give up on the Dark Lord; he was too concerned with purity to ever fight in a war against Voldemort, even if it wasn't the winning side.

In the afternoon, Ministry officials came to escort Lucius Malfoy to the Ministry for interrogation. His father went quietly.

The Manor's walls weighed down on Draco like an avenger as he sat alone, in his empty, hollow house.

And then, he couldn't wait anymore. He stood up and left for Grimmauld Place again.


	23. Part II, chapter five: Raising Dawn

**Title**: For the First time

**Author**: Mabu  
**Rating:** NC-17  
**Genre:** Romance, Angst, Humor, Adult, Violence.  
**Disclaimer**: Property of JK Rowling. Quotes from the book may be repeated in here since time is turning.**  
Author's note:**100+ reviews? I should tell you I'm really happy :D but, you'd already know. And this is late because as I told you before: I was on vacation.

EDITED

* * *

**Chapter Five:**

**Raising Dawn**

Malfoy's visits to Grimmauld Place became frequent as he continued to tell the Order of what occurred at the manor and other events that happened between the Death Eaters through his connection with his father. Lucius Malfoy and other Death Eater suspects' cases had been announced inconclusive. Only because half of the Wizengmont remained dubious over their intentions (meaning the suspected Death Eaters had bribed their way out of being interrogated properly) and Voldemort's return.

"Can't they put them under the Truth Serum to get some answers?" Ron had questioned. "They found out the truth about Peter Pettigrew that way."

Tonks shook her head somberly. "The Ministry has restricted Veritaserum since it's not reliable and is able to purge out a person's deepest secret. We had only slipped the Serum to Pettigrew because he was special and Scrimgeour was given permission. Lucius Malfoy, Crabbe Sr., and Nott Sr. have a powerful reputation in the Ministry. It wouldn't be so easily resolved just by Pettigrew's testimony."

Ron seemed to deflate, as did the others after hearing this. Tonks had smiled then, "Don't worry. One disadvantage they have now is that they have gotten the Auror's attention." Tonks had recalled. "So, they can spy on them secretively and Scrimgeour was busy digging up their weak-points just yesterday. He asked Fudge permission to interrogate the case further and even though, Fudge is reluctant, he did give permission since, at this point, people have started to question Fudge's authority."

"The Death Eaters still hold slight power over the Ministry. They wouldn't let Aurors interfere with them, but it is still better than not suspecting anything." Lupin had explained. After the incident with Peter Pettigrew capture, Harry and the others had been more involved in the news going around. Though, even so, they weren't allowed anywhere near the meetings.

"Good news, Voldemort can't hide any longer. The_Daily Prophet_ has started to question and speculate, which makes other people out there speculate too. It's just a matter of time before people get convinced." Sirius had said, grinning as Harry and Ron's mood lifted a bit. Sirius had been trailed again and with reasonable evidence, he had been claimed free. The Daily Prophet had issued articles concerning that too and to the Wizarding society, Sirius Black was innocent and free to walk around Diagon Alley if he liked, without disguising himself.

"Scrimgeour's been looking at me quite intently these few days I'v visited the Ministry and I can guess he still wants to know how I was able to slip out of Azkaban, unnoticed by the Dementors." Sirius had mentioned, laughing wickedly as Harry and the others joined in, knowing exactly why that was. Sirius was still an unregistered Animagus and Sirius had decided that he would keep it a secret as long as he liked.

"Even if the Ministry has gotten a bit serious about the corruption going around the Ministry, that still doesn't make the Order trust them with the knowledge they've acquired the last few days." Draco said when he came to visit. His attitude – after _that_ night – had been of utter nonchalance and helpfulness. "First of all, Peter Pettigrew's mental capacity was questioned and some medics were able to diagnose him mentally insufficient. Sure, Sirius' case was helped, but they could turn it around any second if Pettigrew shows any signs of losing his mind."

"Well, they won't have to try very hard." Ron said bitterly, slumping.

Draco shrugged. "It's still better than nothing. My father and others have been put on a tight spot since, now that the Aurors are suspicious of them, their steps might be followed. And they can't do many missions that way."

After the completely insane thing Harry had done with Malfoy on that night, Harry had pleaded for the twins not to say anything.

"Whatever you say, mate." Fred had said, shrugging casually.

"You know we owe you one for lending us money for our Joke shop." said George politely. "Of course, we won't say anything you don't want us to."

They seemed to have the faces of saints while saying this but Harry could see the amusement fuming off them. And just when he would least expect it, they would try and tease him for his... mistake.

"So, what did he taste like?" Fred had asked one time when Ron was around, giving Harry a startle since he hadn't expected them to mention it in front of someone.

Harry stiffened and glanced at Ron who was uncertainly still looking at his prefect's badge like it wasn't supposed to be there in his hands but somewhere else. Harry had given one warning glare to the twins and they had playfully backed off.

Then, at the kitchen when Harry was checking for a midnight snack, George would come around and ask: "So, was he any good?"

Harry just ignored their teasing and walked away as they snickered behind him like little four-year olds.

Then, there was Malfoy himself. He wouldn't exactly taunt Harry for what he had intentionally, in full consciousness done, but he ignored Harry just as much as Harry did him.

Draco had decided to help the gang get some information from the meetings and while he daily came and announced something or other; his gaze would never stay too long on Harry. Sometimes, Harry didn't know if he wanted to forget about that night and keep on living with the fantasy that he hadn't snogged Draco like hell on earth or if he wanted to face Malfoy and tell him that it had felt good kissing him.

Something had reverberated within him as their lips had met and the feeling of want hit him like a train wreck some days. Maybe, it was because it had been his first time kissing someone. Maybe, it was just the way it felt. Harry wouldn't know; he had never kissed, let alone his former arch-nemesis. He remembered he used to have a crush on Cho Chang, but that felt like such a long time ago. Was it only last year?

Now, her pretty face was replaced by Malfoy's unexpectedly soft lips.

There was no other way to describe Draco Malfoy to himself now. And Harry realised he was doomed in a way, because he couldn't stop thinking about those lips and capturing them in his own.

-0-

"It's very easy. You go to him and snog him." Draco advised as he sat down beside Hermione.

Hermione startled and turned to him with wide eyes, cheeks slightly tinted pink as she blushed in embarrassment. She had been trying to read the course book for this semester, but her mind had been elsewhere when Draco dropped by with those words.

"What?" she asked unwillingly, as she wished to continue her study of the new Defense Against the Dark Arts course book.

"Oh, come on, don't act innocent." Draco said, smiling at her as she warily moved her head away from him.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Hermione said with her eyes narrowed.

"Granger," Draco started in a chiding manner which she didn't think she fancied one bit. "The way you've been blushing in Weasley's presence makes it all the less convincing that you don't know what I'm talking about."

Hermione's heart went to her throat as she stammered: "I- I- You're wrong."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Am I?"

She stared at him before she averted her gaze, looking down. "No." she looked around and was relieved to find that nobody was around. She turned to stare back at him as he smirked fully at her, looking pleased. "But that's none of your business."

"Isn't it?" Draco hunched his back and put his elbows on the table, leaning towards her. "I remember you promised to help me with my Gryffindor crush."

"That was before I knew it was Harry." Hermione retorted.

"So, you won't help me?" he asked, making a hurt face. No longer pretending confusion or indifference at the fact.

Hermione stared at him before she sighed. "You don't need my help, Draco. By what I've seen, you've already captured Harry's-" she stopped when she saw that Draco's face went through an alteration. His face of nonchalance and calm was now lost and confused. Just then, she felt achingly connected to him. Sometimes, when she looked into the mirror and thought about Ron, her face underwent the same changes. Her eyes softened. "I can tell that you've shaken him or else, he would at least talk about it to us."

Draco grimaced when he should at least, feel a little happy. "Granger-"

"Hermione." she interrupted, looking stern as he paused and looked at her.

"Fine." he huffed. "Hermione. You know I won't be calling you that when we go back to school, right?"

She nodded. "Yes. But I'd like it if you called me that when we have our private meetings. It was part of the truce. And anyway, you make my last name sound like an insult sometimes." she scrunched her nose.

Draco snickered. "Right. So, Potter and me?" when she gave him the same stern look again, he sighed. "I won't be calling him by his first name."

It was her turn to be confused. "Why not?"

"Because," Draco looked to be struggling with himself.

Suddenly, Hermione got it. "You're not ready." she stated.

Draco froze and looked at her, his eyes wary.

"You keep on teasing and playing with Harry, but you're not even ready to accept him yet." She sounded accusatory. Hermione could guess from the tentative lines on his forehead, not because she was able to read a person's mind but, because she was doing the same. She didn't trust Ron - didn't trust herself so, even though her feelings remained with her, she wouldn't make the first move because she wasn't ready either. She wasn't ready to give up her heart to someone who probably wouldn't be able to keep it unharmed. He would hurt her.

And by the looks of it, Draco realised that too. He was giving her the look that she shouldn't blame him because she was the same. "Way to be hypocritical, Gran- _Hermion_e." the way he said her first name made it sound twenty times more insulting. She rolled her eyes.

"I realise I'm the same but at least, I haven't done anything to make him _feel_. You, on the other hand, have kissed him and have been giving him eyes while also, ignoring him. That has to be confusing." she felt sorry for Harry, whose first kiss was stolen by a person who was this indecisive.

Draco raked a hand through his hair and she noticed that he had grown them a bit since last term. "He's not ready yet." he murmured after a moment. "Hoping for a relationship at this moment with that Potter would be asking for a broken heart. His first priority will never be me and I don't think I can handle that."

"What priorities?" Hermione enquired, curious about what Draco thought he knew. She knew too where Harry's priorities lay, but she was Harry's best friend so, of course, she would know. While Draco Malfoy had been their rival for three years and then, some. So, how come he seemed to believe he had knowledge of what Harry wanted?

"His parents, for one. Avenging them would probably be on his top to-do list." said Draco. "Then, you guys." he said pointedly. "His owl, Rubeus Hagrid, Dumbledore, House-Elves, His Godfather, and who knows what else."

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "They're not priorities."

"No, they're just important people he'd sacrifice his life over." He replied dryly. She was surprised because it was true. Harry didn't find his life as important as he found others. It was always like that, for him. "He likes to see people happy, but he lives in the Dark times where somebody will die and someone will lose something."

She nodded, agreeing with that.

"So, you won't give your heart up more than you have already, because you want all of Harry from the very beginning?" Hermione asked dubiously, eyes narrowed. "Then, what about what you've already done? What about the consequences of your actions?"

"I'll take responsibility for it, only if Potter feels something for me." He answered with a shrug but his eyes showed that he was convinced it wouldn't happen and he was prepared for that.

_Of course, he feels something for you, you prat!_

Hermione glared and restrained herself from shouting her thoughts out to the snob next to her, instead she took a calm breath and looked away from him.

"So, why are you still here anyway? Don't you have packing to do?" she asked, irritated.

They had gotten their letters from Hogwarts late and the day to leave for the school was two days away. Malfoy had come to Grimmauld Place, as was his daily routine and had some friendly chatter with the twins who were trying their very best to get news about the Order from him. Even Malfoy refused to tell them some of the things that he had been informed about in the meetings and obviously, the twin's curiousity wasn't sated. Their plan wasn't coming quite to fruition with Draco as unrelenting as ever on some issues.

He had told them firmly from the beginning that he would try to tell them details of the meetings except not other things that might be more exciting than just general information of the situation.

"_We've underestimated him." said George while explaining why they couldn't get anything out of him._

Draco looked nonplussed. "Mother's already ordered our House-Elves to do that for me."

Hermione's eyebrow twitched as she glared at him. "You know, you may become a part of our gang, but until you stop abusing Elves' rights, I won't approve of you."

"Another condition?" asked Draco, eyes halfway between rolling and looking uninterested.

She paused. "No. Just-"

He stared at her as she struggled with herself as his lips lifted in amusement. "Look, my father owns the House-Elves, not me. We just use them for our convenience because they're there." he shrugged in an irritating way as she opened her mouth to interrupt, but he didn't let her. "Also, I'll be leaving in two days so even if you had me convinced to do something for the House-Elves, I can't do anything about it right now."

Hermione sniffed bitterly. "You could try and free them."

"If I wanted to, sure, I could. But father might suspect me, which makes it all the more harder for me to get details on their meetings. Father discusses his plans with me only because he trusts me. Do you think he would inform me of his plans while I'm in Hogwarts if I were to free a House-Elf from our house?"

She looked at him and reluctantly agreed. But still. "But—"

"What?"

"You could try and persuade him." she suggested and immediately winced as she saw the dull look in Draco's eyes. She opened her mouth to apologize when she heard voices coming closer. She turned as she saw Harry and Ron entering the room.

"And then, Ginny chased after me with her beater bat. I was distracted and crashed to the ground. Fred and George kept on laughing at me and when we found my broomstick, it was torn to pieces." Ron was recalling as they walked to where Hermione and Draco sat.

Harry and Ron slowly turned to them. "Hey, Hermione. Ron was just telling me about how he crashed his old broomstick before he came here."

"And how I'm getting a new one today." Ron gave a lopsided grin as they sat opposite her and Draco on the old sofas.

"I heard." Hermione said, smiling at Ron. "Congratulations." Her heart warmed at his pleased grin before he turned his head to the side and decided to regard Draco with a curious and suspicious look.

"What were you guys talking about?" Ron asked this while his eyes were fixed with Draco's. Hermione brushed against her hair, fidgeting.

"What do you think we were talking about?" Draco asked, smirking. "Or can you really assume that we were _just_ talking?"

Hermione's eyes widened and she turned her head to stare incredulously at Draco, who refused to look at her and was giving Ron a playfully challenging look.

"Wha- I knew it!" Ron snapped. "You're trying to hit on her, aren't you? You-"

"Ron, stop it." Harry stopped him, thankfully.

Hermione gave a grateful nod to Harry and turned to eye Draco. She froze as she noticed that his playful smirk was not as perfect up close. From his eyes, she could see the tightness wound around them as if he was just keeping himself from grimacing. She touched his arm unconsciously. It looked like it really hurt. He flinched and snapped out of it, turning to stare back at her. They looked at each other for a moment of silence, talking with their eyes.

"Hermione?" Harry's questioning voice pulled her out of those hurt, grey eyes.

"Yes, Harry?" she prompted, but she noticed after a while as they changed the subject to something safe that it didn't seem as if he was about to say something. It seemed as if he just wanted her attention away from Draco.

A lamp mentally lit up over her head as she realized that. There was definitely something going on between the two of them and she wasn't sure if it was a good thing or bad thing that Harry was just as much becoming a part of this affair as Draco was.

-0-

"Are your things ready?" His mother asked as he entered the lounge with Dinny following at his feet with his luggage.

"Yes." Draco answered, smiling as he reached her. "All thanks to you. I know these House-Elves wouldn't be able to choose my favorite wardrobe without your assistance." she smiled back at him as he hugged her. "And thank you for the new clothes. They were absolutely stunning."

"Hmm. I knew you would love them." she murmured in his hair and he inhaled her perfumed scent deeply before pulling away. She brushed aside a few lock of hair from his eyes as she looking him up for the nth time. "It would suit your new hairstyle perfectly." he beamed, proud of his look. After his mother had returned from her shopping spree in France, Draco's hair had gotten slightly longer (he had been using a Hair Growth Potion during the summer) and she seemed to be in love with it. Perhaps, because he reminded her of his father when he was young. "Now, I hope you haven't forgotten to mail me when you get there."

"Of course not, mother." he said and then, made a thoughtful face. "But I may be too busy to-"

"Draco." she gave a warning glare.

He smirked. "I won't forget."

She rolled her eyes and turned as she spoke: "Now, let's leave before the train does, shall we?" she gestured her hand out for Draco to take.

"Yes, ma'am." he mockingly assented as he held her hand firmly and then, suddenly they were Apparating straight to the station where Hogwarts Express awaited.

The whistle of the train met their appearance and a lot of students were making their way to the train as they waved farewell to their parents for the last time.

"We're a bit late, aren't we?" His mother asked rhetorically as the train was readying to leave and only a few students were not yet on the train.

"Well then, it seems I have to leave now." Draco said after turning to her. She gave him a sad smile as he hugged her one more time before pulling away. "Goodbye, mum."

"Goodbye, Draco." she said as he turned to Dinny who held out his luggage for him. "Take care of yourself."

"I will." he said as he found his minions waiting for him near the train and waved them over to him. Gregory Goyle and Vincent Crabbe rushed over to him with their usual greeting.

"Boss." they took Draco's luggage from the House-Elf without him saying a word. It had been a routine for them for four years straight to take Draco's luggage for him as they respected him highly when they were just kids. Draco was proud to have such good followers and always liked them for their blind loyalty to him only.

"See you later, mum." said Draco one last time before he turned and walked to the train with Vincent and Grey following after him.

-0-

Draco was a prefect again in this life-time, so he was supposed to sit in a special prefect carriage with all twenty-four school prefects and have a meeting with the Head Boy and Girl. So, he went there when they were called and sat on the side as prefects from different Houses entered and sat in their own place. Some girls like Padma Patil and Hannah Abbott started chattering together in minutes before entering and some nerdy ones like Hermione Granger and Anthony Goldstein sat with a stern eye to every undisciplined action around them. Draco ignored them all as he looked out the window for he had chosen the very corner seat for himself.

"Draco!" came Pansy's shrill voice a minute later as she quickly glomped on him from the back. "I missed you so much." by the way she was slowly and painfully choking him with her arms around his neck, Draco thought he could tell the degree to how much she was mad at him for not replying to her for her mail.

"Pansy." Draco stiffly greeted. "Good afternoon to you too."

Her arms relaxed around him and she sat next to him with a satisfied air around her. "I knew you would be a prefect." she said excitedly. "And oh my god, I love your hair. They're so beautiful!" she squealed.

Draco could see from the corner of his eyes that Patil and Abott were giving him obscure but surely, appreciative once-overs as Pansy mentioned his hair. Just then, Weasley entered with a slouch on his shoulders and slow steps. Draco was curious: wasn't Weasley supposed to come with Granger? And last time, he seemed less gloomy and more nervously excited than anything. Of course, he had gotten sulkier during the meeting as Draco had tried taunting him every time he tried to speak.

Things were about to get a lot easier on Weasley with Draco on his side. But it seems, even without Draco's taunts, Weasley could lose his red-headed spirit. Perhaps, it was Potter who had done this. It was certainly a change from the last life-time.

Liam and the Head Girl entered just then. "That's enough." the Head Boy said and the prefects quieted down.

As Liam and the female following after him sat in the middle, the meeting began and Draco's mind wandered from place-to-place as new prefects (meaning: the fifth year prefects) were introduced and were explained some rules and disciplinary actions. Draco knew it all by heart and was bored of hearing the same words so, he kept looking out the window and staring as the scenery passed him by in a rush. Somewhere during it, his eyes closed in tiredness and he had fallen asleep.

He could hear the noise of the train's steam engine in his half-sleep slumber. He could hear the droning voice of someone lecturing in an authorized tone, and a while later, he could hear a new voice. At first he couldn't pin-point the voice and what it was saying, but when he concentrated, he realised that the voice was very, very familiar and it was repeating one thing only.

As the voice became clearer and clearer, a prickling pain jolted through his whole body. He awoke with a blink of his eyes and noticed that Liam was still talking to the students so, Draco guessed he hadn't slept for long. Just as he thought that the pain must have been a dreamy projection, the same pain went through him again.

This time, it was almost unbearable and Draco bent his head and clutched his chest as he groaned, loud enough for the others to pay attention. He could hear that voice echoing inside his head over and over again. Repeating the same thing. Shouting it. Loudly.

"Let me out! Let me out! LET ME OUT!"

Draco cried as the voice assaulted his mind and took over. He had one glance of his own face staring accusingly back at him before he fainted.


	24. Part II, chapter six: I Own You

**Title**: For the First time

**Author**: Mabu  
**Rating:** NC-17  
**Genre:** Romance, Angst, Humor, Adult, Violence.  
**Disclaimer**: Property of JK Rowling. Quotes from the book may be repeated in here since time is turning. **  
**

* * *

Draco was staring at the person whose appearance resembled his, but this person had his teeth bared and accusations spewed from the depth of his dark grey eyes. This Draco stood with his head high and his hair gelled back and the real Draco's eyes widened. He looked similar to when Draco used to be an arrogant kid who thought he was better, because his father had everything.

"Why?" Draco questioned, nonplussed. "Why are you here?"

The other Draco smirked nastily and sneered. "Why do you think? You've taken over me, Impostor. This is my body you've taken over and I want it back."

"What?" Draco was startled as a jumble of thoughts and realisation hit him one-by-one.

_"Do you think... I'll ever go back to my time? I mean, in the time turner, you know whatever time you've turned to will have the past you, but when I came here, the Draco Malfoy that was in fourth year wasn't here anymore. Actually, I took over his body. Wasn't that it? Where is he now, then?"_

_"I'm guessing; inside you." Snape said unhelpfully, staring at Draco's body with doubtful eyes._

Eyes warily studying the stature of his other self, Draco gaped. "Do you- Are you- Are you really inside me?"

The other Draco's features twitched in annoyance. "No, you're inside me, you knob head."

Draco's eyebrows furrowed as he watched the other Draco and then, smiled. "You really are real?"

The other Draco glared menacingly, arms crossed around him and his attitude just as childishly superior as ever. "What do you think?" he sneered again.

Draco felt the bit of panic leave him and amusement start to cover up his face. "And why are you bothering me now of all times?"

The other Draco started to look grumpy and it looked a slightly less appealing look than Draco would like his face to be in. "You are a powerful wizard, I reckon and I suppose no matter how much I struggled against you, I couldn't get out. It's taken me a lot of hard work, but I've finally gotten past your defenses."

"My defenses?" Draco repeated, confused.

"There's a shield around you that I couldn't break through, but now that I've gotten some control back from you, I won't let you get away with all this madness!"

Draco's good mood deflated as he was hit with the fact that he was staring straight at his past self: the person who had done so many mistakes on purpose and until he grew up and realised he was in love with someone he couldn't have, he had been a right prat. It was true: love did change you. And this Draco wasn't in love.

He was defiant, and had a limit to all his emotions while Draco cried a river every night. This was what it came back to: to choose between discrimination and family or acceptance and rebellion.

"I won't let you try and stop me." Draco murmured as he knew his choice whole-heartedly. He looked up and looked straight into the other Draco's eyes. "It's true that I didn't come back in time intentionally, but now that I'm here and now that I've managed to change a few things about my life, I can't go back. I can't let you default what I've built up the previous year." he said this with perseverance and could feel his magical energy spiking as the magical shield he wasn't aware he was holding - to keep away the other Draco's soul - formed up again and stronger this time. It bound like bricks and left his other self behind the barrier.

"You!" he could hear the other Draco protesting and fighting against the barriers but it was no use and so, with a smile, Draco returned back to consciousness. To the real world.

* * *

**Chapter Six:**

**I Own You**

* * *

His eyes opened and he blinked as he took in his empty surroundings. Wasn't he at the prefects' meeting? He looked around and found Sirius Black sitting right next to him, eyeing Draco with a glimmer of suspicion.

"Awake?" Black asked rhetorically and smiled when Draco gave him a wary look in return.

"What am I doing here?" Draco inquired, straightening in his seat.

"What do you think you're doing here?" when the Slytherin gave him a blank look, he answered with a laugh. "You fainted in front of the prefects. The lot got worried and asked for help. Unfortunately, I was the only adult here with any healing knowledge whatsoever."

Draco shook his head and was reminded of something. "Didn't Granger and Weasley see you then?"

"Yes." answered Black with a slow nod. Draco stared at him with a quirked eyebrow and the man rubbed the back of his head while laughing. "It's just a matter of time before both of them run and tell Harry about it."

"And you're laughing because- ?"

In one of the meetings he had with Dumbledore, they had discussed the candidates of who could and should take the course of Defense Against Dark Arts from the Order. Because they wanted protection and safety from the inside as well as the outside. It was later that Black had been freed that Dumbledore found the perfect candidate. He said that Black was still at quite a danger even if he wasn't being chased by dementors or the Ministry dogs. The Dark Lord was furious and he would do anything to take out the enemy and Blacks' position was very vulnerable.

"Not just because he is a perfect target for Voldemort's anger, but because he's an important person to Harry."

And it was Harry Potter they wanted.

Draco hadn't seen the argument or the agreement between Dumbledore and Black but no matter, Black took the contract as a teacher in Hogwarts for one year. Dumbledore had told Draco when he asked:

"Sirius is struggling with himself: he wants to protect Harry and be there for him if something bad happens but he also, wants to help out more in the Order and feel truly like a member." In the end, some words from the old coot had Black considering protecting Potter.

"I don't know why I'm laughing." Sirius sobered up some though a smile flitted on his lips. He turned his piercing eyes to Draco and questioned: "So, nice dream?"

Draco stared back at him as his heart thudded in panic and confusion. "Er, yeah. Dream- nice dream." he looked away as sweat perspired on his forehead. The thing back there; his other self that wanted his place back, he scared Draco. Draco might have faced him with confidence, but that was only bland arrogance. Sure, it irritated him to no end to see his past-self, but it also made him worried for his consciousness. Something like that was so near him, it could influence him anytime.

"I have to know," Sirius began, staring up at the compartment ceiling. "What reason does a boy like you have for coming back in the past?"

Eyes enlarging, Draco shook in frozen shock and fear. He always knew that he disliked this man for a reason. He was too smart for his own good. Draco moved his head slowly and blinked innocently at him. Sirius' eyes were already watching him like a hawk.

"What are you talking about?"

"Don't play that on me." Black ordered with a scoff. "I don't like being treated like I'm too stupid to believe your confused and lost act."

Draco raised both eyebrows. "I am lost. I really have no idea what you're talking about."

"How about you give that up, brat?" Black requested after taking a long-suffering sigh.

"I can play the innocent card as long as I like." Draco answered, smirking a bit. So what if Black knew? It was just the same as Severus knowing.

_Right?_

His heart still thudded in fear and he knew he didn't quite find this the same situation as with Severus finding out. Severus was someone close. Black was _Potter's_ godfather.

"Oh, is that right?" Black questioned, eyebrows raising in interest for a challenge. "Then, you confess that you've been messing with the time continuum."

Draco's eyebrows twitched. "I confess to nothing. Although, I should say that for a person who should be thankful to me for saving his convicted arse, shouldn't be pointing blame at a supposedly innocent person."

"You're not innocent." stated Black like it was a fact for life. Like he knew what sins Draco committed for his family's sake. Like he was already being judged for something he most definitely hadn't done yet.

Draco hid the stung look in his hard grey eyes and snorted. "Whatever." He stood up with the air of someone at high stature and no matter how snobby it was, it stopped him from feeling bad about what he'd done years ago as a Death Eater. "I apologize for the inconvenience." He went to the compartment door and reached for the door knob when suddenly, it opened by itself.

Or, by someone else.

Draco dreadfully looked up to find Potter's bespectacled face just miles away from him. He blinked slowly. Potter was looking just as surprised to find him here. Draco noticed that his two friends were right behind him, looking on with worried and lost faces.

"Are you alri-" Harry reluctantly began, but Draco cut him off.

"Well, if it isn't the Idiotic Trio." He proclaimed loudly and sneered at the three. There were some students around to watch and he could see Greg and Vincent watching from the side-lines. "Worried about me, Potter? Don't. I don't need your concern." If he was letting out some of the bitterness through the fake act then, they could all blame Black for it.

With a rough shove of his shoulder against Potter's, he left without turning back.

Even though, he wanted so much to; turn back.

-0-

The night was lightened by the candles spread around the bewitched ceiling of the Great Hall. There was a wave of great chatter among the students as a lot had happened past the summer generally as well as personally. For example: a student got an owl as a gift from her parents or the great criminal named Sirius Black had been released from his reputation as a fugitive and had been seen in the Hogwarts Express train by some students. The students in the Gryffindor table were louder than any of them and there was an excited shakiness in the middle where Harry and his friends sat.

To say, Harry was over the moon at the news of Sirius becoming their new Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers was an understatement. While he had been sulking at the fact that everyone he knew was a prefect and he wasn't, Sirius had been waiting to give him a pleasant surprise. After Hermione and Ron had done their part of the duty to lead first-years to the Great Hall, they had sat down with Harry and had discussed what it would be like to have such a great wizard like Sirius as their teacher.

"I expect he'll be more mature than he is, generally." Hermione had said, referring to Sirius' somewhat childish behavior at moments. She was only one in their gang who was a bit skeptical about his qualifications as a teacher. She believed that Sirius' stay at Azkaban affected his mental state more than they could ever imagine.

"Who cares about that." Ron shrugged and looked around before leaning in to whisper. "If he's a friend of Remus, we can be sure to have fun."

Harry grinned and high-fived with Ron while Hermione looked disapproving. "Well, as for me, I would like it if my teacher was at least, a bit professional. Professor Lupin was a good teacher, because while caving to his student's interests, he also made it sure to _teach_ us."

"Geez, Hermione, we're just saying that it would be fun with Sirius, no matter what since he's a great wizard and not out to kill Harry." Ron said with a side-long look at her. "No need to be so overbearing."

Harry winced and Hermione's face turned red as she fumed in anger. "Overbearing? Overbearing? I'm _overbearing?_"

"Er, well, not exactly." Ron backed off, looking nervous while the twins, who had been sitting near them, started laughing.

"Good going, bro." they commented while Harry warily watched.

Hermione kept on glaring at Ron before she turned to regard the twins with ice-cold eyes. They stopped laughing though, their mouth were quirked up in amused smirks.

Harry nudged Ron and gestured him silently to apologize. Ron looked at him as he rubbed his arm and turned to Hermione. "Look, Hermione, I'm sorry."

Hermione took one look at him and then, her eyes went way past him, over his shoulder. Harry turned to see where she was looking and found his eyes unquestionably falling on Draco Malfoy's profile.

The prat sat facing their direction, Pansy Parkinson right next to him and Blaise Zabini talking to him with his back facing the Gryffindors.

"Wha-What?" Ron was muttering and Harry meant to look away, but Draco was staring straight at Hermione, his face apathetic. He felt a pang of something go through him as he was reminded of how Draco and Hermione kept having these strange moments together. Why did they have the same look of recognition in their eyes? It had started since that day in the drawing room of Grimmauld Place. It was as if they had a new type of connection; like they understood each other.

"I forgive you." Hermione suddenly muttered and Ron looked at her with surprise first before smiling nervously to cover up his relief.

Harry looked away from Draco, who had turned his attention back to Zabini and stared at Hermione as their eyes caught and she smiled a friendly smile before talking to Parvati on her left. Harry looked to the staff table and saw that Sirius sat there beside Professor Flitwick and Snape. Sirius seemed to be making some comments to Snape, but soon noticed Harry's eyes on him and grinned as he waved at Harry. Snape looked slightly disgusted from his place and glared at Harry.

Harry grinned at Sirius, forgetting all about the anxiousness of not seeing Hagrid after departing from the train and the daily bickering between Ron and Hermione.

The Entrance door opened to let in Professor McGonagall and the first-years. Harry watched as with other students as the Sorting Hat sang its somewhat eerie song and the first-years were sorted for different Houses.

Then, Dumbledore made his speech like usual, with warnings and introductions to the new teachers. Professor Grubbly-Plank was their temporary teacher for The Care of Magical Creatures and Sirius Black their teacher for Defense Against the Dark Arts. Harry applauded with all the rest as Sirius stood up and waved at the students.

-0-

**Seven Days ago**

"Yes?" Dumbledore asked, studying Draco's profile through his half-moon glasses. "What is it, Draco?"

Draco, who had not left after the Order meeting closed the door behind him and walked to the Headmaster with a firm set of jaw. "We need to talk about the extra-curriculum."

Dumbledore smiled. "First day of having the prefects badge and you're already leading."

"No. It's just that the talk of House unity that's got me a bit worried." Draco answered, sighing. "I can't do this on my own."

"Then, maybe you should discuss this with Ms. Granger and Mr. Weasley." advised Dumbledore.

"Exactly. That's actually what I shouldn't be doing. Remember, spy?" Draco pointed at himself.

Professor Dumbledore gave a kind smile. "You don't have to be a spy if you wouldn't like to."

Draco rolled his eyes. "I want to spy on them for myself. I only give you the little information I get for your benefit, but mostly, it's my selfishness: I don't like to be taken aback."

"And why you saved Sirius?" Dumbledore asked tactfully.

Draco froze where he was and closed his eyes. "Wouldn't want the Chosen One to flip out on us when he should be trying to save us from Voldemort's clutches, would we?"

"That's true." Dumbledore agreed.

Draco snorted. "I've discovered something during this summer." Dumbledore looked up curiously. "You're a manipulative old coot, aren't you?"

Dumbledore hesitated. "I'd like to believe I'm doing it for the good."

"Would you do me a favor?" asked Draco bluntly. "Would you stop pretending to be wise and tell me what really is the secret behind Voldemort's death? And that scar that Harry has?"

"It is something I cannot tell you, even if your situation is special." replied Dumbledore.

Draco sighed again. "Then, at least, tell Potter." He raked a hand through his hair in frustration.

"It's not yet time for him either and you don't need to take every responsibility on your head, Draco." Dumbledore noted.

Draco snorted a laugh. "You don't get it, do you?" he shook his head. "If I don't do anything then, I'll feel twenty times more guiltier than I already was."

"But some things, perhaps, you could leave to others."

"No." Draco said stubbornly. "I don't trust anyone."

Dumbledore stared at him. "That's a fault, then. You have to trust somebody to make it through a tough situation somehow."

Draco grit his teeth and turned to sharply glare at Dumbledore who sat there, looking calm. "Oh, I'm sorry, I phrased that wrong: I trust you and I trust your stupid gang not to tell my secret. I trust my mom a whole lot than you guys and I trust Professor Snape with my life. It's not like I don't trust, just that a lot of well-placed judgement can bring doom, but why're we even talking about this? I was here to give you this." He walked over to Dumbledore's desk and put the fake coins he had bewitched with the Protean Charm there. "Give this to that trio. I've prepared this so we can all communicate with each other without meeting in one place all the time."

Dumbledore picked one of the charmed coin between his finger and thumb and studied it before he smiled amiably. "I see; The Protean Charm."

"There are more than a few so you can give one to Black and keep one yourself." Draco informed before turning away, ready to leave.

"Draco," called Dumbledore. Draco stopped and glanced back at him. "Maybe, you should try and enjoy yourself here. I think coming back in time can be a lot of fun, if you think about it."

The Headmaster's eyes were twinkling with a mischievous light.

Draco smirked wickedly. "You'd know a lot about that, wouldn't you?"

Dumbledore smiled mysteriously. "Perhaps."

-0-

Harry and Ron sat in the Gryffindor Common Room, watching Hermione disapprove of Fred and George's experiments with some of the students who were vomiting and retching after eating one of the Skiving Snackbox.

"Mr. Potter," called Professor McGonagall from behind them. They turned to look around. "Mr. Weasley and Ms. Granger,"

Hermione, who was busy telling the twins off, turned and obviously startled, goggled at the Head.

"I have a message for you. If you would please, follow me." she led them off and out of the Gryffindor tower, a long way back to her office during which Harry wondered if they were in some kind of trouble. He'd never exactly know with Professor McGonagall since one time, instead of punishing Harry for flying on a broomstick without permission, she made him Seeker for the Quidditch team. Ron and Harry exchanged looks and glanced back at Hermione who shook her head slightly as to say that she had no idea why they were being led this way at such close hours to the curfew.

"Come in." she let them inside and closed the door, locking it before turning to them.

Slightly bewildered by all the extra precautions occurring, Harry questioned. "What is it, Professor?"

McGonagall looked at Harry for a bit and Harry thought she looked a bit annoyed. "Mr. Malfoy has especially requested that I give something to you in complete secret." she walked over to her desk and opened a drawer, taking something out. "I don't understand that boy. For a young teenager, he's awfully worried about things that he shouldn't have to."

"Well, with all due respect, Professor-" Harry began. "Voldemort's return is something to be worried about."

McGonagall turned to him with a slightly irked frown while Ron and Hermione looked nervously between the two. "And that is exactly why children aren't allowed in the Order, Mr. Potter. These things must be left to adults. I still don't know why Mr. Malfoy is given such lease, but he is just a kid."

Harry was reminded Mrs. Weasley's breakdown in Grimmauld Place a week before he left to Hogwarts and knew why adults wanted them to stay away from such things. Still, when he had seen Voldemort so closely, had faced death in the face and rebounded; it was hard to lay and rest for a while.

"What was the thing that Malfoy wanted us to have, Professor?" asked Hermione curiously, changing the subject.

McGonagall's lips turned into a thin line as she waved her wand and magically levitated three coins in the air, sending them straight to their hands.

"Do you know of the Protean Charm?" asked Professor McGonagall.

Ron and Harry frowned, not having any idea about it.

"I've read about it. It's a charm that links several objects together through a common purpose." Hermione answered, looking at the coin carefully. "Is this charmed?"

"Yes." McGonagall replied. "When Mr. Malfoy feels like meeting you, he will transfigure it and you will be alerted. Also, he asked me to tell you of the place where you'll be meeting."

"Well, that's a relief. I thought we'd be meeting in those dusty, empty classrooms again." Ron said, looking pleased.

Hermione nodded. "That would be highly risky since meeting Malfoy in front of others was a bit questionable. This makes it easier to communicate."

"So, what's this place we'll be meeting at?" Ron asked as Harry looked away from the coin.

That's when Professor McGonagall told them about the Room of Requirement, in detail.


	25. Part II, chapter seven: Attachment

**Title**: For the First time

**Author**: Mabu  
**Rating:** NC-17  
**Genre:** Romance, Angst, Humor, Adult, Violence, Erotica, Supernatural.  
**Warning:** Strong Language. Sexual activity.  
**Disclaimer**: Property of JK Rowling. Quotes from the book may be repeated in here since time is turning.  
**Author's note**: I was indecisive whether to leave a cliff-hanger on this, but this is a gift for all those that care about action between Harry and Draco. Also, sorry for being late; I get sick a lot.

* * *

**Chapter Seven:**

**Irresolute Attachment**

* * *

His coin heated up the next day. The Slytherin Common Room was slowly becoming empty as the students left for their classes. He took the fake galleon out while nobody was there and read Hermione's message:

_Meet in RoR, at 6:00pm_

Draco sighed and put it back in his pocket.

"Draco, you coming?" Pansy asked, walking by him and looking at him curiously.

He nodded and followed her out of the common room and into the corridors of the dungeon.

"I don't see Zabini anywhere." Draco said, looking around for the boy's familiar profile among the crowd heading off around them.

Pansy stiffened and said in a fiery voice: "Don't talk to me about him." when Draco quirked a brow, she added: "We broke up."

"Well, that-" he paused, noticing her glum look and said: "wasn't unexpected." she glanced at him. "He's the type of guy who likes to keep to himself and even if he had a thing for you, he probably is too scared of a relationship."

Pansy squinted her eyes at him and looked away. "I have bad luck with guys."

_Well, boys at this age don't have the mental capacity to handle a double standard girl like you, but I'm sure, you'll get someone._

"Not to worry. There are plenty of good-looking guys to ogle at. That new teacher, for one." Draco added just to see her reaction.

Pansy's face scrunched up in disgust and she glared at him. "He's a blood-traitor, Draco."

"Doesn't mean he's not aesthetically pleasing to look at." He shrugged casually.

He noticed that Pansy wavered a bit before she snorted derisively. "I've seen better."

It had been his plan from the start to open some of his Slytherin friend's eyes to the Light side so, when it came to war, the Hogwarts school would be unified to fight against Lord Voldemort. They wouldn't have to worry about not being prepared since Sirius Black was going to continue it Mad-Eye Moody's way and teach them how to duel in risky situations. Draco's meetings with Dumbledore over the summer weren't for nothing; yes, there were things he couldn't tell the old man, because telling the future was dangerous. But he was given the privilege to talk out things with that person. It was a deal-to-deal, he got information from Dumbledore and in return, the old wizard got information from him.

It wasn't going to be as easy to keep correspondence with Dumbledore now that he returned to Hogwarts, but as it was, he had to keep in check with the golden trio, because for Merlin knows why, they always seemed to end up in the middle of things. Also, he got what he needed from the Headmaster; now, it was time to follow the trio as they moved on.

-0-

"You called?" Draco asked as he sat down on the middle of the couch, resting his arms on either side.

Hermione gave him a wary look before she nodded, sitting down on the arm-chair opposite him. "I've considered what you offered last time." she said in a determined voice.

Draco quirked a brow. "I don't remember offering anything." he said, acting oblivious.

"But you were about to, before Harry and Ron interrupted." she retorted, glaring at him.

Draco smirked. "And what do you think I was offering?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "You don't have to act like you've got the upper-hand, you know. I know how much you feel for Harry so, acting superior isn't really helping." she said, her eyes gleaming with victory as Draco's expression faltered. "Also, if I don't keep Ron out of the way, Harry won't come to you so willingly. That's why, you need me."

"And you need me." stated Draco, eyes intense and sober now. "I wonder why. Since you're so close friends, Weasley really should be in the palm of your hand by now."

"I don't want him to be in the palm of my hands!" Draco quirked a brow and she looked away, worrying her bottom lip. "I just can't handle him sometimes." she fumed. "He disagrees with everything I say or do. And then, sometimes, he unexpectedly does something that makes me..."

Draco raised an eyebrow; the girl's feelings were showing and so, was her vulnerability. "To put it simply, you're scared you'll lose your friends since these feelings keep getting in your way, but you still like the idiot so, you want me to help you figure it out." He said.

"He defends me, you know." Hermione murmured suddenly. Draco looked at her. "He protects me and Harry and he's not the smartest in the bunch, but when it comes to the important things, he always comes through."

"He doesn't understand you though." Draco said, his eyes on the ceiling. "That's the problem."

"Harry doesn't understand you either." Hermione gave a stifled smile. "If all boys could understand their counter-part's feelings than, wouldn't it be really easy?"

Draco, with a long-suffering sigh, agreed: "I know. Why do you think I have this much patience with that prat?"

Hermione smiled fully. "Because you love him?"

Draco winced at her bluntness and glared at her. "No," she raised her eyebrows in a 'oh, really?' expression that made him feel a little irritated. "Because I know he won't ever understand me."

"Well, the things you do sometimes are a bit confusing." Hermione said. "That won't be Harry's fault. You keep going about things in a roundabout fashion."

"It's better that way." Draco said, remembering what Dumbledore had told him. The reason he was ignoring Harry was, because Harry had an antenna on his scar that made Voldemort receptive to Harry's thoughts, visions, and emotions. Just like Harry was to the Dark Lord. Antenna was just a metaphor; it was another way of saying that Harry was somehow connected to Voldemort through that lightening scar of his and even though, Dumbledore told him nothing about why - Draco could explain the phenomenon with a few logical reasons. He had a library in the Malfoy Manor explaining about many Dark things.

_"If you have to go as far as avoid Harry so, Voldemort doesn't get into your head than, make him learn Occulmency." _Draco had suggested to Dumbledore, though it was much too late already for him. It was one of the reasons that Voldemort might find out about Draco's defect to the other side anytime. He couldn't stop the inevitable, but still, he hoped for some time to spy on the Death Eaters.

_"Yes, I have asked Severus to teach him." _Dumbledore had told him and so, that was one of the things Draco had chosen to give up on pondering over.

"What's better?" Hermione demanded in a puzzled manner. "To confuse Harry till the end?"

Draco looked up at her, having forgotten that he was in the middle of talking to her. "Why do you care that much what I do with him? For all I know, that person might not even care one bit about me."

Hermione gave him a disgusted look. "You don't believe that. You made sure that he'd end up caring about you."

Thinking about his influence on Potter got his eyes glazed misty-like as he thought about just this morning, as he was walking through the corridors with Pansy, Greg, and Vincent. Potter was with his usual gang, passing by him when his eyes had caught a glimpse of Draco and they widened behind his glasses as if something earth-shattering had faced him. When only Draco lived reflected back in those dark-green eyes. Draco evidently ignored him, but his heart clenched in distress as he moved away from Potter.

"Who knows more about love?" challenged Draco to Granger who started. "You, who were, as I'm reminded, about to lash out on your Weasel when he called you something you particularly didn't like. Or me, whose actually got the attention of my former arch-nemesis?"

Hermione glared at him. "About that; you're using that_ eaveo_ spell even now?"

"It's essential for a spy like me." said Draco, smirking. At the Welcoming Feast, Hermione and him had the _Eavesdropping spell_ activated so, she was able to hear the whispered words Draco murmured to her when she was about to fume out her anger at Weasel for his inadequate answer. Two surprising discoveries were revealed to him through that; one was that Granger actually listened to him and the other was that Potter's jealousy was finally showing its head.

"A lot good did it do you." Hermione scolded. "What do you even find out through it?"

"I could ask you the same question." Draco retorted and then, cut her off when she was about to say something: "No, wait, don't answer that. I already know how you Gryffindors think. Moving on, Hermione, are you going to help me or not?"

She stared at him, her eyes narrowing before she huffed. "You still don't seem quite serious about Harry."

"When he's serious about me, I'll be serious too, OK?" He said in a chiding manner.

She stared some more, glaring daggers at him or probably, analyzing him with a critical eye. Then, she stood up and walked over to him. "We shake on it." she demanded in a bossy manner, her nostrils flaring.

Draco held the urge to roll his eyes again. "What is it with you Gryffindors and 'shaking hands'?"

"It's something new. Muggles make deals this way." she informed, her hand still waiting in mid-air.

Draco glanced at her hand before he held her hand and shook it lightly, staring back into her eyes with an unwavering look.

"Don't hurt him." she mumbled in the middle of the weird shaking ritual and he nodded, though his heart wavered.

-0-

The first class of Defense Against the Dark Arts with Sirius Black was eventful, in a normal way. Draco had requested the Headmaster that the Houses should merge some more of their classes, because of his aforementioned concern of Slytherins separation with the other Houses. That was the reason why his D.A.D.A class currently was with Potter and his cronies. Draco sat with Pansy and Vincent on the back of the class while Greg sat with Zabini and Nott on the desk in front of them. Potter was on the desk quite far on the front with his friends and some other Gryffindors.

"Welcome, to your first class of Defense Against the Dark Arts." Black said with a grin on his face. There were a lot of brightly shining faces in the class that belonged to none other than irritating Golden Trio. And the rest were uneasily whispering amongst each other or looking with great interest at the ex-convict. "Now, I assume that your other professors have put quite a bit of emphasis on the O.W.L. exams." Few of the students soured and they gave him bored yet, expectant looks. They had been listening to the same lectures about O.W.L.S. from every teacher. Black laughed. "Don't worry, this won't be long. We've just been asked to specify the terms of O.W.L.S. to the students so that, they don't forget to prepare for their exams. For D.A.D.A. examination, it's easy enough for students who prefer practical more than written since, the whole exam is about how you do certain spells and jinxes. I will tell you details on this later, but for now, I will give a brief summary of what this class will entail for you so, you can expect when to bring your books and when not to."

Draco kept an eye on Pansy from the corner of his eyes as he was hoping she'd become a fan for the Black's reckless charms. She preferred to hide it, naturally, but in sixth year, she had revealed to him that she guiltily loved muggle celebrities and watched their movies in secret. Also, she may be a Slytherin who preferred to be refined and pure, but she had a thing for dirty, gritty men once in a while too. There were things he knew about his mates that even they wouldn't realise and it was an advantage Draco kept for himself.

"Half and a quarter of these classes, you will do your best to practice Defensive spells that will be coming upon in the O.W.L.S. and in between, we will learning other, less important things. " He said this with a charming yet crooked smile on his face. The type of smile that made girls fall all over him in varied numbers. Draco stifled a smirk as he saw Pansy bite her lips while staring mesmerized by Black.

"Other than that, Let's start with introductions. I'm Sirius Black, as you may already know. I had been convicted of a crime I hadn't done but, my innocence has been proven and I am now a free man." Some students exchanged looks with their classmates and looked up with more interest at Black while their teacher gave them a toothed grin.

"Now, today, I know you won't give your very best at studies since, this is your first day, but rest assured, we will be wasting our precious time to get to know you." he directed his gaze to the left corner of the class where the clumsy Gryffindor sat. "Young man, stand up." ordered Black and Longbottom stood up, fidgeting on his feet. "What's your name?" was his question.

"N-Neville Longbottom."

"Oh, I know your family." Black's eyes colored with recognition before he told the boy to sit down and called the girl next to Longbottom.

"Parvati Patil." said the Gryffindor girl and just like that, Black asked every single student their name and commented on a few.

When it came for Potter's turn, he and Potter shared a secretive grin while he told his name. Hermione told him her name with a firm nod, as if she was approving of Black's methods and expected hard-work from the next lesson. Weasley gave a sheepish grin and told his name while also, giving an impressive raise of brows. Then, it was their turn. Most Slytherins were at the back of the class, so very quickly, the good atmosphere was being sucked off by some of the sarcasm, nasty comments or gestures by the students.

Black took it quite astoundingly, though. He smiled a I'm-not-going-to-retort-because-I-know-you're-far-beneath-me smile while looking at some of them. Although, Nott and Millicent sneered and jeered in Black's direction, they still respectably stood up when it was their turn and told their name, with lots of attitude. Draco could see some Gryffindors looking at them and rolling their eyes while exchanging looks between each other. The white-blond Slytherin found amusement from it even though, his brain was going: '_How the bloody hell am I supposed to unify these idiots with those idiots?_'

It was quite a dilemma, he knew.

Finally, it was Pansy's turn who stood up with her head cocked to the side, giving Black an impassive once-over. Something twitched in her expression and although, it was quite mild, Draco noticed the slight movement when she gulped.

"Pansy Parkinson." she said in a stern way and Draco hid a smile by covering his lips with a hand on his mouth, leaning on the desk while glancing at her face as she stood beside him, looking straight at her dangerously sexy teacher.

"Parkinson? Hm, can't say I haven't heard it before." Black was looking at her as not a student, but the daughter of a Death Eater. Draco could see it in his eyes.

Pansy sneered. "Well, I can't say I haven't heard of you either." the comment could have easily been flirty, if Pansy hadn't been giving the nasty glare. Draco snorted and she noticed, glaring down at him. "What?"

Draco smirked wickedly up at her, making her blush and looked away soon after, realizing she wasn't quite over him either. But, at least, she had interest in Black and that could lead to a state of mind change. He hoped.

"Next." said Black as Pansy sat down and Draco stood up, for his turn.

"Draco Malfoy." he told his name, staring at the blackboard behind Black and then, shifting his eyes so that they were on Potter. Potter had his face turned to his direction, so did most of the other Gryffindors and Draco looked away soon after, eyes shifted to Black.

Black gave a smile, though there was this odd light in his eyes; as if he was worried or concerned.

Draco looked around confusedly. "What?" he questioned Pansy who was giving him that worried look too.

She shook her head, looking away.

Draco shrugged, his heart beating fast as he sat down and noticed Zabini and Nott glaring at him from the corner of their eyes. Draco realized why they were looking at him that way. In fourth year, sure, they might have tolerated Draco's almost decent change, but everyone had been too busy with the Tri-Wizard tournament to care. And Voldemort hadn't returned back then, which made taking sides a bit of silly though, it was still an active part of everyone's social life in Hogwarts. Also, Draco had distracted them from making a fuss about it soon with the snogging-random-strangers-in-public and getting-raped-and-using-it-for-his-advantage. But that was it.

It was fifth year and all the Slytherins expected Draco to be a bit mature after what had happened during the summer. Draco should be, if he was planning to become a double-spy. He should be nasty, cast jeers wherever he went, bully first-years, take advantage of weaklings, and be disrespectful to blood traitors and muggle-borns.

But truth was, he had decided that he wouldn't. It wasn't as if, he was too scared to do it, but he wasn't the patient type like Severus. He couldn't hold in the walls of his feelings for Potter and just become a Death Eater. He couldn't repeat the same mistake again. He was starting to feel comfortable in his skin again, in his whole being. So, what was wrong with wanting to slowly come out to his parents? So, what was wrong with his selfishness?

Dumbledore had told him he didn't have to do this; he told him because he knew that Draco's secret wasn't as tightly closed as Draco would like it to be. There were too many loose ends that his father could tie up, at any time, with the help of his Master. Draco had no choice in the matter, anyway. He couldn't betray his skin once more, to save the lives that were so important to him.

He didn't have to tell them now. He already had a contingency plan made up with Aunt Andromeda and his mother. So, everything would be alright. This way, he could meet up with Potter and not have to be extra cautious. This way, he could unify the bonds between all the Houses and not have to pretend to be a git. This way, he wouldn't have to distrust himself.

Because once, Hermione asked him not to hurt her best friend, Draco knew inevitably that he would hurt Potter by being on the other side. If Potter was to become serious about him, there were things that would hurt him, because Draco was a masochist at best.

And at worst, he was a sadist.

The rest of the class, they opened their books and read pages 10 to 26 by Black's instructions. The class was quiet, but the real conflict was brewing up in everyone's mind.

-0-

"Hey, Malfoy!" called a person as he walking through the corridors. He could hear footsteps approaching as he turned to raise a questioning brow. In front of him stood the new Slytherin Quidditch Captain, Graham Montague. Marcus Flint used to be their former captain and one of the chasers with Warrington and Montague.

"I've heard something about you that I sure as hell hope is not true." Montague asked, his voice low and dangerous.

"About what?" Draco asked, puzzled. He wasn't intimidated by Graham. The chaser may be muscles and broad shoulders, but he wasn't as smart or able as Draco was.

"They're saying you're quitting Quidditch." said Montague, his angry feelings quite obviously on display.

"Of course, I'm not." Draco sputtered, making Montague raise his eyebrows. "How can you- you know I want to beat Potter, don't you?"

"I know." said Montague, raking a hand through his hair and he looked at Draco. "But with the way you're acting, it doesn't seem as if you're in any mood to compete. What's wrong with you?" it was not a soft question by a concerned captain, but an affronted demand.

Draco rolled his eyes. "You tell me, Graham, does it seem wise to provoke whole three Houses against us, while also trying to win the Quidditch Cup?" when his new captain just seemed baffled, Draco decided to elaborate: "What has been happening to the Slytherin team since Potter's entry in Hogwarts?"

Montague's eyes grew hard. "They've been beating us well into the ground." the sneer that curved his lips was quite the evidence of how Graham felt about Potter's seeking abilities. Draco saw himself in that sneer and averted his eyes, trying to concentrate.

"Not only that, we have been humiliated and looked down upon by each of those Houses." Draco said this viciously, and unsurprisingly, he didn't have to pretend. These were his feelings. He'd never be anything, but a Slytherin.

That was his place, his throne, and his to take or throw away.

"So, what does that have to-"

"I think, playing a foul while they have no idea, is a better approach." Draco interrupted, making Graham frown. "Do you know what my father says? Attack them when they least expect it. It definitely works and it's worth a shot."

"So, what? You're going to cob Potter when he's not sure you're going to play nasty?" asked Montague with equal wariness and interest.

Draco smirked as he imagined Potter being taken-aback by a foul and missing the snitch by mere inches. He remembered how much fun that was.

"Cob? That's too little of a foul. How about batching?"

"Wouldn't both of you go down then?" said Montague, addled.

Draco's lips curled up, his inner-self beaming as he said, turning away: "Why not?"

"Well, as long as you catch the snitch!" called Montague after Draco, who was already starting to walk away. "And don't forget Tuesday try-outs; we have to choose two new beaters, and a chaser."

Draco waved him good-bye and took a turn to the marble staircases. He had a meeting to go to.

-0-

"You're late." Potter said, point-blank, looking quite annoyed with him as he entered the room.

Draco took a look around and raised his eyebrows at Potter as he commented lightly: "You're early." he walked up to the sofa opposite to Potter's and sat there. "Where are your cronies?" he asked, though he already knew. The reason why he made that painfully stupid deal with Hermione Granger was for this particular reason.

"Don't call them that." muttered Potter before shaking his head. "I don't know. Hermione wanted to talk to Ron alone. Don't know why." He shrugged, looking a bit confused and curious.

Draco's smug self was smirking inside while the other part had his breath hitching, and his hands turning clammy. "Interesting."

A few awkward pauses after, Potter began: "So, what did you want to meet us for?"

"I can't talk about it without your cronies, Potty." informed Draco dryly.

"They're not my cronies, stop calling them that." Potter said sharply. "And I can tell them about it, later so, might as well." Potter shrugged again.

"No. We'll wait for them." Draco said in a relaxed tone.

"What? Why?" Potter asked, baffled.

Draco sighed. "It's a plan all three of you need to hear." he replied.

Harry stared at him and blinked slowly. "What's it about?" he questioned, finally.

Draco gave him a flat look and Potter backed off. For the next few minutes, he watched, amused as Potter looked around the room as if there was something interesting to look at and pressed his hands together before looking back at Draco questioningly, and averting his eyes as he noticed Draco's penetrating gaze. Then, he started to exude a frustrated aura which Draco found a bit intriguing and curious. Some five to ten minutes later, Potter blurt out:

"So, what? We're going to just wait here until they're here?" When Draco looked away, instead of answering, Potter vented: "I have homework, you know. I can't waste my time here while _your_ favorite teacher's long essay is due tomorrow."

Draco snickered, a smile twisting his lips. "You still haven't done the essay yet?" Professor Snape had assigned them the essay days ago. Draco had already finished it the day it was given.

Potter's eyebrow twitched before he glared hostilely. "I had Charms homework and I had to practice the Vanishing Spell for Transfiguration and-" Draco bit the side of his lip as his shoulders shook with laughter. "Hey, stop laughing." his face had turned red with both anger and embarrassment. "It's only the beginning of the year and the teachers have already started to load up work on us. I don't have time for that with all the things going on."

Draco calmed himself down, though a few laughs slipped through his lips. He stared soberly as his eyes fixed on Potter's head, the hilarity quickly pushed away by a spike of lust that pulsed through him as he noted Potter's messy dark hair. How many times had Draco dreamed of slipping his hands through those locks of hair? It wasn't just the idea of raking his hands through Potter's hair, but the idea of being so close to Potter that really got him in the gut.

The fact was, after spending a year or so at this place, Draco's tendency to desire anyone with a cock had lessened so much that now, even lusting for Potter came in small amounts. It probably wasn't, because he was getting over Potter's non-existent charm, but for three reasons.

First: after Flint fucked him, it had traumatised him a bit- or, a lot. He realized that he was more scared of getting fucked now and that was because the wanker, Flint didn't know the fuck he was doing. No lubrication, no preparation? Draco's arsehole was tight and tiny now that he was a virgin again and being forced apart hurt like a bitch.

Second: The stress of all that had happened to him had gotten rid of all the usual urges he had. When he first came, sure, the lust was alive and kicking even if he was in somebody else's body, but he had gotten too used to not being penetrated from behind or getting so close to naked, hot skin that he became sweaty, pleasurable limbs.

Third: There was no age gap between the students here and him, but still, he found it a little bit awkward to imagine fucking boys or girls who weren't anywhere near his real age. That's why, he had only given them a mild snog. If they were ever to experience Draco's hell-to-bent tonguing, they would melt. Of that, Draco was sure.

"You know what, Potter?" Draco said after much silence. "How about I help you with your homework?"

Potter gave him a confused look. "What? That's not possible." he quickly blurted.

Draco smirked. "Why? Do you think you're doing good with your studies?" he remembered Potter's pitiful ranks in Potions and knew that despite being lucky and skillful in dueling and Seeking, Potter was useless at actually thinking through his assignments. When Potter lowered his eyes in partial defeat, Draco knew he was right about thinking that Potter was incapable of handling his assignments. "I don't blame you, It_ is_ the O.W.L. year. The teachers always give too much work for us to work with. And your tiny head obviously can't handle it all at once."

Potter's sulky glare turned fiery as he stood up abruptly. "You've been insulting me a lot lately, Malfoy and I really_ don't like_ it." Potter grit out.

Draco gave an innocent head-cock to the side. "Are you sure? I've heard some people like that kind-of thing."

Before he could be prepared or even blink through his taken-aback shock, Potter had slammed him back off the sofa and Draco was thudding down on the floor with the sofa. Panting, face red, and eyes blazing green flame, Potter was straddling Draco's middle.

"No." growled Potter, his mouth close and yet, so far from Draco's own. "YOU'RE the one who likes that kind-of thing."

Draco's lips parted as his breath left him. His head felt a bit hazy and his whole body was suddenly waking up in the most blissfully tantalising way.

"You're right." breathed Draco, grey eyes fixated on Potter's. "I do like that kind-of thing."

Potter's eyes widened as his head jerked back and he stared down at Draco for a long time. They didn't dare speak as the tense air around them changed to something else entirely.

It had been such a long time since Draco had felt that twinge of lust growing into something more potent that he felt dizzy, and hot all over.

"Draco." Potter said in a low voice and lowered his head down, little by little until his mouth was just hovering over Draco's. The blond Slytherin noted all of Potter's features up close and waited with bated breath as Potter leaned down and finally, put his mouth over Draco's. It was uncertain and slightly hesitated for just a moment, but all that vanished when Draco let out a moan and opened his mouth under Potter's.

It was then, that Potter did what Draco was waiting for him to do. He took charge.

-0-

Just one, most enticing noise came from Draco's mouth and it was Harry's undoing. He had indistinctly heard that moan before; with Homer Jr. and himself in Grimmauld Place the night Peter Pettigrew was captured. But to hear it clearly, it was like a flash of hot pleasure right in front of his eyes. He couldn't hold back; all the thoughts, all the dreams, and all the fantasies that he had unwillingly been having - since Draco Malfoy had kissed him for the first time - were pouring through his system.

He meshed his lips against Draco's, roughly and didn't pull back one bit. Just kept on pushing and pushing, trying to take everything from those lips as he instinctively pushed his front to grind against Draco's. Harry never thought he'd ever treat a lover this way. Whenever he had thought about making love or kissing the one he desired (like Cho Chang), he had always thought he would be gentle and kind. He had thought that he would consider the others pleasure instead of treating his partner with selfish charges. He wasn't like Flint, of course, he wasn't. Draco wanted him back, he could see it in the Slytherin's eyes.

He had been able to see it since the start; he just couldn't identify the emotion behind them until now.

And if those grey eyes weren't enough of an indication now, since they were closed tightly to relish the feeling on his lips right now, than, the way Draco kept on opening his mouth wider and wider with every bit of Harry's tongue digging deeper and deeper inside would be enough to assume that he need not stop. So, they kept on devouring each other with their tongues meeting, pulling, sucking, licking, and tightening around each other. As they went along with the flow, clothes became an irritation and even if Harry tried to ignore the urge, he felt himself twitching to take off his and Draco's shirt and then, those pants.

Harry had twice seen Draco's nude profile. The first time, he had been too disturbed by the scenario to notice the attraction of Draco's long legs, his almost hairless chest, and that delightfully wonderful long neck. But later, he had come to more than appreciate them.

He wanted to see, he knew now, but something was wrong. Even though, some part of him had thought that it would be easy to stop if he ever wanted to, he couldn't move himself away from Draco's wet and hot mouth to strip them both. It was magnetising; this lust. He kept on grinding himself against Draco as they kissed, frustrated beyond belief, because he couldn't move away and feeling so damn good snogging Malfoy that he just couldn't care less. He was conflicted between two urges and both were unusually strong on equal sides.

_Why the hell did Harry think it was a good idea to wear a robe?_ He couldn't even take that off, because his arms would be in the way and right now, his hands were busy touching and caressing Draco's skin under his shirt. The buttons were hardly open, Harry was just digging his hand under the area in between the buttons and touching as much hot and feverish skin as he could.

"A-ah!" Draco groaned, pulling away from him finally. Harry, if not for that, would not have realised that he was running out of breath. He would die, snogging that snobby little Slytherin and he wouldn't even know.

Something was really wrong with that.

Harry panted, his head pounding as hard as his heart while he watched, fascinated as Draco breathed, his face dotted with pink and fervent red.

"Oh." breathed Draco shakily, his whole body convulsing under Harry as he closed his eyes. "_Merlin_."

Draco Malfoy really was a sight to beheld when aroused and feverish. His ears were whole pink, his body quivering and sultry, his breaths heavy and hot, and his eyes watery with glazed-over lust. Harry didn't know he was kissing Draco again until his lips had captured the other boy's lips and held them there for a while. He pulled away and while unbuttoning Draco's shirt, he licked and sucked his way to Draco's deliciously tempting neck. Harry was so turned on, he shouldn't even have to say that he had never been so turned on in his whole life.

Biting Draco's neck was heavenly, a crash-and-burn full-course of pleasure that reached all the way to his toes. The pleasure was so much and yet, still so little since it hadn't made him cum, that all the inhibitions he still owned somewhere in his consciousness vanquished.

Harry experienced his first time being so animalistic that he treated someone he knew with no care. He ripped apart Draco's shirt uncaringly and sucked on Draco's chest, holding on tightly on the blond's shoulder, and bit and sucked the flesh presented to him.

"Ah, _Ah_, AH!" Draco cried as Harry pinched his already hard nipples at first in curiousity and then, licking it with his mouth with determination as Draco arched his back. Harry knew one thing; he wanted to hear those noises over and over again. They were so stimulating, so sweet to his ear that he was sure he would cum just hearing those.

"P-Potter!"

Wrong. He almost came just by hearing his last name being called by those lips.

Harry groaned, and zipped open Draco's trousers first before his own. Draco watched this, eyes glazed and mesmerised in a dazed fashion before they lightened up with energy at seeing Harry's hard-on and he reached for it.

Just one touch was enough; the white flash captured him again and this time, he unfastened his load. His eyes closed in satisfaction as he let out an appreciative groan.

He could hear the fluctuating hitches in Draco's heavy pants as he opened his eyes and stared intensely at the quivering mess Draco made, just sitting there, trembling and looking at Harry to do something. That vulnerable face was so innocent; Harry couldn't almost recognise the person behind that profile and when he did, he realised that he was seriously in trouble. Harry held onto Draco's painful hard-on and let the white-blond boy cum with a shrieking cry.

_Because if such a face was pleading him to do anything, he would do it in a heart-beat._


	26. Part II, chapter eight: A Fatal Love

**Title**: For the First time

**Author**: Mabu  
**Rating:** NC-17  
**Genre:** Romance, Angst, Humor, Adult, Violence, Erotica, Supernatural.  
**Warning:** Strong Language. Sexual content.  
**Disclaimer**: Property of JK Rowling. Quotes from the book may be repeated in here since time is turning.  
**Author's note**: I watched House and Star Trek, so yeah, I may sound off with my writing. Also, sorry for the lateness. This thing took me days to write. But oh well, at least, it's long and has lots of... moments. Oh and, the plot thickens :)

**Author's (**very inappropriate**) question**: Which side-pairing would you like on the menu: Sirius/Pansy or Sirius/Snape?

* * *

**Chapter Eight:**

**A Fatal Love**

'_I don't want to lose myself_  
_Tonight I sleep to dream of a place that's calling me_  
_It's a whisper_  
_It is always just a dream_  
_It's a funny thing_  
_Still I cannot forget what I have seen_.'

"A Violent yet Flammable World"** by Au Revoir Simone**

* * *

_Where the bloody hell were Weasley and Granger?_

Draco asked himself the fifteenth time as he calmed his fast beating heart after that pleasurable release. Suddenly, he was very nervous. Why wasn't Hermione here yet? He had told her specifically that after ten to fifteen minutes, she could return to the Room of Requirement. And while she was at it, she could try and warn him if she was coming. He still hadn't gotten her message. He didn't think his tryst with Potter would have lasted till the last moment. He hated showing himself that way; when he was so turned on that his limbs shook on their own and his damned heart would start pounding loudly against his ears. It was something he knew he would experience, because one of his very pleasurable releases were when he thought of Potter. Even so, he didn't think Potter would be able to see that side of him until very late or not at all. But Potter had turned out to be unpredictable.

He had thought the boy - as inexperienced and straight as he presumably was - would fumble his way through the moment (in Grimmauld Place, Draco had thought it must be a fluke so, he didn't contemplate over it much), but that wasn't the case here. Potter genuinely seemed like a domineering partner. He wanted to charge and be aggressive. Draco had always thought he had that potential since it was Potter's very nature as a Gryffindor to be reckless, but in a sexual way?

Well, wasn't the world full of surprises.

"So, have you thought about my offer yet?" he asked breathlessly. Potter stared at him, still straddling Draco's middle before with a scalded blush, he backed away, pulling up his trousers and buttoning them up.

"Wh-What offer?" Potter was trying to sound casual and failing miserably since he was still awkwardly looking down while avoiding Draco's eyes.

"About your studies?" Draco asked, his eyes on Potter's head. "Remember when I offered to help you with your studies just before this?"

Potter looked up, his expression startled. As he studied Draco's apathetic face, his eyebrows furrowed and fury fumed from within.

"So, you're just going to ignore that happened? Like last time." Potter demanded, raging.

Draco sat up as he pulled his trousers up and looked down as he buttoned it. "We're not talking about this now."

"Why not?" there was aggravation and danger in the lilt of Potter's voice and the magical air between them cackled like lightning. Draco, looking for some kind-of distraction or excuse to get out of the upcoming argument, noticed something at the corner of his eyes and snatched it up from the floor. His fake galleon was shining with a new message. He guessed that it must have fell during what Draco and Potter had got up to.

He read it, shaking away the trembles still left in his fingers. Relief and a surge of hurry went through him at what was written and he looked around at the damage done to the place, avoiding meeting Potter's eyes anyway or anyhow. The damage was minimal and he decided he could fix some of it until Weasley and Hermione showed up.

"Are you ignoring me?" Potter demanded, standing up too, his teeth grit together.

Draco winced and gave a wary look over. "Potter-"

Potter snatched his collar and made them come closer face-to-face. "I'VE HAD IT WITH YOUR ACT. WHY DON'T YOU TELL ME WHAT YOU'RE REALLY AFTER? HUH?"

"I'm not after any-"

"YOU'VE BEEN MESSING WITH US FROM DAY ONE, MALFOY and you want me to believe that you're after nothing? After all this time, do you believe that I'll just give up on thinking about your actions. Just because you think we're idiots, Malfoy, doesn't mean we really are. You've been hiding something from the beginning and we can't trust you until we know that."

"Potter-"

"And stop calling me that! My name's Harry. It was part of the truce that you call us by our first name. Are you going to avoid it,_ Draco_?"

Draco was left a little speechless after that and looked away.

"What?" Potter urged. "What is it?"

Finding some sorts of wits about him, Draco refused to give in and spoke again. "Hermione and Weasley should be here any moment. You should fix yourself up." he sent a glare Potter's way. "We'll discuss this later."

At first, it looked like Potter was going to argue, but then, for whatever reason, he calmed down and released Draco's collar. "When? Where?"

"I'll tell you through the fake galleon." Draco said over his shoulder and moved away, wishing for the room to look less messy than it was. In the blink of an eye, the sofa that was thrown off had moved back to its place. The rugs were properly placed again and no mark of their previous tryst remained. Except the wet batch in his underwear. "Huh." He looked up, glancing around the Room of Requirement and gave an impressed look. He had forgotten this part of the room's feature.

Granger arrived minutes later, by herself. When they asked where Weasel was, she averted her eyes and looked away. Draco wasn't quite so curious about what happened at that moment, but he decided to question her later. Since it appeared that Weasel wasn't returning anytime soon and the curfew was coming to a close, Draco decided to call it a night and left with:

"We'll discuss the plan on Friday, same time."

He couldn't sleep that night. He restlessly turned over and over, but that familiar itch suddenly appeared. Crawling deep within his veins were feelings that he had suppressed and rationalised every night of his past. He didn't know how to deal with them so, he forgot about them.

But it wasn't forgotten, it was only pushed away.

Shuddering as he felt those phantom touches on his arms and waist, he closed his eyes tightly and thought about what could be if he denied it much longer. If he could wait just a bit longer. If he had the patience to.

But the itch wasn't going away and _Potter's hands had touched him-_

His hands reluctantly slid down, slowly past the fabric of his night-wear down his chest and pressed at the pressure building in his groin. Knowing it was inevitable, Draco stripped off his pyjamas and slipped a hand under his boxers, touching the smooth trail leading back to his growing hard-on. Just as he knew, it wasn't enough and unconsciously, Draco's fingers tried to reach the hole in his backside, but twitching, he paused just as his wet fingers touched the opening.

Toes curling, lips trembling, and heat gathering on his cheeks when embarrassment filled him head to toe, he gave in to the urge he had been half-afraid and half-excited to do.

He penetrated himself. Murmuring a verbal lubrication spell with shaky breaths, he pressed against his hole with a wet finger and filled it. A sigh of relief flew past his lips and he continued to wank as he pushed and pulled his finger in and out. He couldn't reach his pleasure point like this, but there was a whole new kind-of fulfillment in filling himself. If it weren't for his stubborn resolve, he would have already used someone else as his release.

It was surprising how stimulating his tryst with Potter could end up being. Even if he found nothing fulfilling about one or two fingers in his asshole after what he had taken in his past life-time, fantasizing about Potter's cock inside him caused him more of a palatable high than anything. He had never been so vulnerable and unprepared for something than when he was with Potter. He was afraid, he knew. He was running away. He was being a coward.

But oh god, if Potter didn't give in to Draco's seduction anytime soon, Draco was going to kill someone.

Keeping his eyes firmly closed, he thought of Potter's hands, eyes, and cock on him, thrusting, rough and hurting. Draco's urgent fingers worked over him, desperately grabbing parts of his thigh and waist, digging his nails in as he bit his lips. The small stings he was causing himself were hardly satisfactory and he could imagine what Potter's rough hands had done to him and what they could do, even more so.

Painfully, soundly, and with a deep sense of loneliness, Draco came finally with a part-whimper and a part-moan.

And then, he fell asleep.

-0-

Severus was grading his student's paper (each quite impossibly stupid than the next) when Sirius Black showed up at his office. With a gentle knock on his door-frame and a polite smile that was too uncharacteristic for Black, the ex-convict entered with long, meaningful strides and reached Severus' desk.

"How are you, Snivellus?" asked Black, tilting his head smugly.

Severus held back his urge to glare as he looked up. "Black, what purpose did you come here for?"

Black shrugged. "Thought I'd have a one-on-one chat with our one-and-only spy." with a great nonchalance, the man sat in the chair across from Severus.

Severus glanced over the dog's shoulder, noticing a ward surrounding the room that wasn't his. His eyes shifted back to Black and he said in a dry and deadpan tone:

"I wasn't talking about that. I thought, with your freedom back, you'd be doing what you had been so avidly barking over to do for much of this summer. It seems suspicious that you took this job."

Black's expression remained neutral though, his eyes and the mild twitch of his eyebrows told a different story. "Well, I thought I'd save Harry from your clutches and then, some."

Severus' face went through a mild change then too, though he might not know it had. "You think there's a danger far worse _here_ rather than outside in, what say, the Ministry, perhaps?"

"No. I just missed _this_-" Black gave him a pointed once-over that made him burn and chill at the same time. "-didn't you?"

Trying not to let that phantom sensation bother him, he quirked a brow. "As you can see, I am quite busy with my work so, you might want to make this 'chat' brief."

"Works right for me." Black's smile was dark as he leaned in and murmured: "I can't stand the sight of you any more than you do." when Severus stared right back in contempt, Black looked around his surroundings casually. "Why am I not surprised by the look of this place? Dark and Damp, just the way you are."

Severus ignored the pointed look Black was giving him and asked, his patience wearing thin: "Why are you here, Black?"

"I'm sure you know."

The Potions' teacher gave his new colleague a look of disdain and sneered softly. "Unfortunately, I'm not a mind-reader. I could try Legimency, but I know you wouldn't let me even if I tried."

Black's eyes shone in amusement. "Now, why would I need to protect my mind against an ally?" when Severus didn't decide to humor him, Black got a bit serious. "I was actually here to discuss Draco Malfoy with you. Since, you are a lapdog of the father, I thought you might know what his son is up to."

Severus surprise was momentary and manageable. He already knew Draco wouldn't be able to cover up his attention-catching tendencies even with the cleverest wizard in Severus' year.

The Potions' Master, in a moment of protectiveness almost said:_ Stay away from him. He's none of your business._

Instead, he gathered his self-control and with a elegant hand on the side of his head, he pretended to be ignorant: "What about Draco Malfoy?"

Black studied him for a moment, knowing that Severus wanted to get more out of him before he replied. Giving in, Black told him. "He's up to something. If you haven't noticed already and I know you have; he's a Aliud. A Time-Traveling Aliud, maybe-"

"The Aliud is not Draco." interrupted Severus sharply.

Black started and then, listed all the mysterious symptoms with a defiant expression: "He has been exuding sexual pheromones, his personality has changed, he knows just what the future entails, and his magic is different and I don't mean powerful by that. Even though, I should note that Malfoy is much too knowledgeable and powerful for a fifth year."

Severus tried to look indifferent, though he was a bit worried about some of those symptoms himself. "It is true that he has come back from the future, using nefarious and ancient magic equivalent means that only the Aliud from the time of Merlin existed. But he is not an Aliud."

"And you would know that because?" Black was disbelieving.

"Because I looked into his mind while he was clueless about it-" that shut Black up pretty quickly. "-and I found the Aliud who sent him here."

"Who was it?" Black asked, looking interested.

"A girl, his age. Her parents died in the war, I'm can't tell if she was lying or not."

"What's her name?"

"I'm sure it wasn't her real name, but Draco called her Alice."

Black looked to be thinking, as he murmured the word: "Alice..."

Severus arched his brow. "Know something?"

"No. Not at all." Black shook his head, looking dumbfounded. "Then, why is Malfoy-"

"He's in the body of the present Draco Malfoy." Severus decided to give him a clue, knowing that Black would figure that out sooner or later.

The confusion vanished from Black's pitiful face and dawning comprehension covered it up. "You're joking."

"I prefer not to joke."

Black's enlarged eyes turned to him. "Don't you know what that means?"

"I can guess what it means. But two souls in one body is impossible, no matter how you think about it."

"No, not that. I've heard myths about it, but isn't it true that Aliud can be made with two spirits?"

"Draco is not an Aliud." Severus repeated for the third time. "It is a ridiculous notion to believe in a fairy tale."

"Don't you know, Snape." snorted Black. "We're living a fairy tale."

Severus only looked bemused, but Black found some sort of humor from the quote cause' he laughed and grinned for a while.

Later, when he sobered, he talked about how being a half-Aliud wasn't actually harmful for a wizard. It was just like being a half-breed, he said with a snicker. Severus, after that, had insisted he get out or he would haul Black out by the tail. Black retorted that he didn't have a tail, except if his arse counted as the tail and if Snape meant that, it was slightly disturbing. Severus had then, in a dangerous tone said that he knew how to make a real tail appear on Black's unappealing arse and that, he would be happy to put it there for a week. Black had seen the threat for what it was and had tailed it out of there with a few unnecessary remarks about how his arse was actually quite appealing and sexy.

"Yours, however-" and had left it that.

Severus had fumed at first but then, had been content with the few hours of peace he had while venting-out his frustration on the student's papers (which really deserved his biting remarks and the bad grades) before McGonagall came to have a visit too.

And Severus had thought, today was just not his day.

-0-

"Crabbe. Goyle." Draco blinked slowly. "What are you doing here?"

He had just gotten out of the Prefects' Bathroom after a very relaxing bath when his two cronies had cornered him.

"Boss." greeted Goyle with a part-bow and somber eyes. "Ma'am Pansy told us that you were here."

"Why did she tell you to-"

"She wanted us to talk to you." Crabbe interjected nervously and looked down as Draco raised a brow. "B-Boss."

"About?"

"About your attitude these days." Goyle answered with respect.

Draco made a face. "My attitude?"

Draco knew what they were talking about, but he was boggled as to why these two fools were sent here to talk to him. Was this some kind-of joke?

"You have been very nonchalant recently. You haven't bullied anyone since- since-" Crabbe was trying to deduce the estimated amount of time in his mind and failing, as he looked at the ground with clueless chagrin.

"Since a long time." Goyle helped him.

"Yes, yes." Crabbe pointed, agreeing with him. "You haven't bullied anyone since a long time."

"Do I have to?" Draco asked innocently. The two stared at him in a befuddled way before exchanging looks.

"Uh- no?" Goyle said as a question, which Draco found laughable.

"No, wait. Yes!" surprisingly, Crabbe laid Goyle in the right direction. "It's not just the bullying."

"Yeah." Goyle seemed to come back to his senses. "You haven't been going to the meetings between the Slytherins."

"Meetings are boring." Draco shrugged.

Crabbe and Goyle blubbered for a moment before one of them said: "You used to love those meetings."

"Yeah, in first year, when they wouldn't let you in, you tried to blackmail the President and were the only person in our year to get in the Slytherin's Top Secret Meeting." Crabbe reminded.

Draco scoffed. "STSM is overrated and childish."

"You used to like it." insisted Goyle, Crabbe nodded beside him. "Remember when you gathered few of the members and had them pretend to be Dementors so they could scare Potter?"

"That was childish." even as Draco said it, he smiled at the memory. That had been fun.

"But- but didn't you use to like scaring Potter and getting him in trouble?" Crabbe tried, as if the idea of tormenting Potter was quite appealing to Draco.

Generally, it was. But he was thinking of a new way of tormenting Potter and it didn't involve childish taunts and lame pranks.

"I've gotten over Potter." He replied with a straight face and turned away.

Behind him, Crabbe and Goyle gave each other hopeless looks and gave a not-so subtle look over to Nott and Pansy who were standing in the obscure shadows of the corner, looking over at them.

-0-

"Well, you've seen it for yourself." Nott said in a haughty tone.

Pansy's nose wrinkled and she huffed: "Gotten over Potter? No way is that true. How could that be true? I've heard him jibe and complain about Potter for the whole time I've known him and yet, he's 'gotten over Potter'? I don't believe it."

"I don't believe it either." Millicent dropped her two cents. "He's much too tied up about Potter and his gang. He would never just give up."

"Right?" Pansy and Milli looked at each other and formed a connection just then. Even though, Pansy always thought Millicent Bulstrode was a fat, ugly cow, and Millicent was disgusted by Pansy's general slutty and conceited nature.

Blaise rolled his eyes. "Can we move on to the fact that Draco Malfoy is not following up to our Social Contract?"

Pansy gave him a bitter, resentful look. "When did you start caring about Social Contracts? You used to be a loner, remember? Until Draco decided to invite you in, that is." she scowled. "Way to be ungrateful."

Blaise glared at her.

Nott interjected. "Whose side are you on, Pansy? Ours or his?"

Pansy turned sharply to stare at him before she said: "Draco's my friend."

"No." Nott corrected. "You are in love with him and he's rejected you, twice."

Other Slytherins in the surroundings gave each other scandalous looks that said: "I can't believe he just said that." and watched, fascinated.

Pansy gritted her teeth together and bit out. "He's my friend."

"Friends don't exist in this place. You should know that." Nott said. "We're all individuals with great ambitions who take use of each other and that's all this Social Contract is for."

Some Slytherins around them frowned in disapproval at his insensitive remark. It might have been true, but they didn't need to hear that. Pretending they were friends for real was better than the reality.

Pansy's glare eased a bit and she nearly smiled. Nearly, of course. Catching on the atmosphere, she glared ten-fold at him and said: "How could you say that? I would admit that we're all greedy and arrogant enough to think that we can do this alone, but I've realized long since then that if we don't depend on each other to fight the other Houses, that we'd already be defeated. We fight on, because we have friends that stick by our sides and help us while our family is far away. All the personal ups and downs, all the sadness and despair we feel; we help each other through it."

She could see from the corner of eyes that most of Slytherin's eyes were softening and she was winning the argument through a cheesy line that Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs would try to pull on each other. She couldn't believe Draco had set her on to this.

"Do you hear yourself?" Nott asked her rhetorically, disbelieving. "Do you hear how Hufflepuff you're sounding right now?"

"What if I am? It's true, isn't it?" Pansy retorted boldly, badgering on Where No Slytherin Had Gone before. "You don't know that feeling of reliance and trust, because you've never had a friend!"

Nott gaped at her and looked around at the Slytherins around him who were silently rooting for her. "You don't believe the shite she's spouting, do you?" when they didn't reply, he turned back to her. "You're barking mad!"

"And you're a lonely little baby whose trying to replace Draco, but you never can." she accused. "Because you know what? Draco understands us and he's hot and he makes us all feel special and yes, I love him, you stupid son-of-a-"

"Pansy- Pans." called a voice from outside the room. The voice that only she could hear, because she had the spell _eaveo_ activated. "Calm down, darling. I think you've made your point."

Pansy understood, but she had one more thing to say. "And I'm not the only one who does. Every one of us love Draco Malfoy, don't we, guys?" she turned to the gathering teenagers and got a few reluctant nods, a few agreeable smiles, and a few neutral faces. Just when she thought she would exit out dramatically with a few farewell remarks, Blaise Zabini scoffed softly beside her and her understanding went out the door. "Oh," she turned to Blaise who looked up at her with wide eyes. "Don't you even try to deny it, Blaise. I know you've had a thing for Draco since second-year. You can't say you don't care for him because you do, you ungrateful fucking liar!"

"I agree with Pansy." Daphne said from somewhere behind Pansy. Pansy and the others turned to look at her and she said: "About Blaise having a crush on Draco, of course. I don't exactly agree or disagree with Pansy's 'brave and wholehearted' speech. Hell, I know that half of the friends I have are hypocritical bitches who like to brag about the newest thing they bought and half of the others want to get into my skirt."

"Are you kidding me?" Blaise hollered. Pansy, who was a bit indignant after Queenie's confession, looked to Blaise questioningly. She had forgotten for a moment that she was trying to accuse Blaise of having a itty-bitty crush on Draco. "I am not gay!"

"Nobody said you were gay, sweetheart." said Queenie with a polite smile that might as well have been: "_Is he talking? To me?_"

"I think I've proven my point." Pansy added, looking down on Blaise.

Blaise sputtered for a moment and stood up. "I am not-"

"Yeah, yeah, can we move on now?" Pansy waved him away, looking like she was bored of the topic already.

Blaise fumed and Nott grimaced as he watched his best supporter walk off to the door to leave.

Of course, as Blaise opened the door, Draco was waiting on the other side, smiling mischievously.

-0-

"Well, that went well." sighed Draco, walking among the members as they rushed out after the meeting.

Pansy raised a brow at him. She snorted, looking away. "Better than I had hoped."

Draco had entered the room half an hour ago and had straightened every rumor out of them. Mainly, he was able to do this, because his fellow Slytherins were dense enough to believe in him and of course, because Pansy had helped him. Draco hadn't been planning to keeping his reputation intact. He actually had been resolved to just let it go down-hill from there.

But once Pansy had seen his confrontation with Crabbe and Goyle, she had been kind-of angry. Okay, so a lot of angry.

Draco had been lying on his bed, at his prefects' bedroom when she had called for him several times. When he had opened the door to his room, she had shouted:

"YOU PRAT!"

Then, she had slapped him.

Draco had been dumbstruck by her nerve and had asked her loudly: "What's wrong with you?"

"What's wrong with me? What's wrong with you!" Pansy had howled, angling her head high as she came face-to-face him.

"Nothing!" He shouted. What was up with people getting pissed-off at him? What about Draco? He was angry too. He remembered Granger had asked him the same thing too. He was getting tired of being asked that and perhaps, he was taking it out on Pansy. "I'm just bloody tired of being a leader to you idiots who never learn!"

Pansy's eyes had narrowed. "What?"

"You heard me." _If I am going to ruin my long-built reputation, I might as well do it now_, he had thought at that time. "I want to change. I want to go for the winning team and _you_ aren't it."

"Winning?" Pansy had seemed puzzled before her eyes widened. "I don't understand."

"Don't act like you don't know." Draco had scoffed and leaned in with his eyes firm and intense. "Voldemort's-" Pansy had flinched, her eyes thunder-struck. "-return confirms it; there are going to be two sides to this. One is Potter's and the other is the Dark Lord."

She gulped. "Draco..." she shook her head in denial, looking as if she couldn't believe it. "There have been rumors about you being a closet Gryffindor, but this? You're actually defecting to the other side? _You_?" she said it as if it was as ridiculous as her marrying a goblin.

"Maybe." answered Draco half-heartedly, looking away. The fact was, he was scared of losing it all. His place as a leader; the respect, the followers, the admirers, and the friends. He could decide to do anything or everything. He could be resolved. He could be from seven years later, but still, his heart wasn't so unattached to Slytherin than he thought he was.

Maybe, he could do it all for Potter, but maybe, he couldn't.

Pansy's stare dug graves into him. "Maybe? What the bloody hell does that mean?"

He turned sharply back to glare at her. "I mean that I am conflicted, can't you see? I hate my father and I love him both at the same time. And then, I-" Draco stopped as Pansy looked at him in deep contemplation.

"And then you-?" Pansy's tone was suspicious. When Draco's lips remained firmly shut, she gave a laugh as realization and bitter mirth sparked in her eyes. "Oh. Oh no. You-" she pointed at him and struggled before she gave another nasty laugh. "You're in love with one of the trio, aren't you?"

Draco blinked quickly._ Too close, _he thought in worry.

"Blaise was fucking right! He noticed you looking at the Gryffindor table and kept telling me consistently about how your eyes were always following the trio. Because he still thought of you as a friend, he didn't tell this to anyone, but me. I just laughed at that. You know, cause' it seems impossible that the people you so loathed would become someone- someone that I have been working my arse off to be." she glared at him vehemently.

Draco closed his eyes and gave an exhausted sigh. "You know you couldn't ever get me."

"Yes, I know. For whatever reason, you refuse to see me as a potential lover. But I thought, at least, that I would be able to accept whoever your partner would be. I thought that you were so traumatised by Flint Fucking Marcus that you wouldn't even think about having a partner, guy or girl, here in Hogwarts so soon. I thought that- that you would be a heartless player, at least. But no! You're actually thinking of- of a person who had humiliated you and me both many times coming. You're thinking of Potter's gang?"

Draco winced. He almost thought she was going to say Potter. "I'm thinking that I want to go after something that I can't achieve and it's an interesting challenge, isn't it?" He tried to sound casual.

She sneered. "Stop joking. As laughable as the challenge sounds, we wouldn't ever even try to bet our money on making some Gryffindor fall for us. You know why? Because we have our dignity. We don't suck faces with a Gryffindor, even if it is a challenge."

Draco chuckled. "Listen to yourself, Pansy. Do you see the wrongness that entails in our superior pride? We have nothing to stand on-"

"-Only money and respect, of course-" interrupted Pansy with a snort.

"Money and respect that only our fathers have and even that, they have lied and cheated to achieve. We're just children. We haven't accomplished anything. I've lost every time to Potter, Weasley, and Granger. They're not the losers. We are. They will always end up victors and Merlin knows, I hate that more than I've hated anything."

Pansy looked at him for a moment after his speech and he could see the wheels of her head turning. "So, it's a challenge?" she questioned. "To make Potter and his gang lose, you're doing this elaborate plan of acting like you're a good guy?"

"Of course not." grimaced Draco.

"No?" Pansy's eyes were dull. "You're really going to be a traitor? You actually want wizard blood to run out?"

"That's not what this is about."

"Then, what is it about?" shrieked Pansy, her frustration showing on her face.

Draco stared at her and took a deep breath. Then, in a very soft voice, he began: "It's about us thinking we're superior just because of our blood when we all know that Granger, despite being a Muggle, is a better wizard than any of us. It's about a heartless, soulless immortal trying to lure us in with the word: Blood purity, when that Dark Lord is actually a half-blood himself!" as he continued, his tone became more convicted and loud. "It's about killing innocent people in the run while also, losing our own precious people's life in a deathly fight that might make us question ourselves and our motives to survive in a dark world where everything is watched and freedom is taken away from our hands. It's about bowing to one entity all our lives when we have always lived with our heads high and our pride off the ground."

"So, you defy the Dark Lord? But what about the Slytherins? What have we done to you that you're cutting ties from us?" Pansy asked, her eyes wide and defiant. She wasn't listening to him at all.

"I'm not cutting any tie!" He yelled. He hardly ever did that. "You're the ones making up rumors about me, you're the ones trying to alienate me, you're the ones who will question and doubt me if I ever told you that I don't want to side with the Dark Lord, hat I don't want to antagonize first-years, and shove off my feelings for a Gryffindor!"

This time, Pansy had no comment to make. She just watched him, her expression sober and speechless.

"So, bugger off." Draco grumbled.

Just as he was about to turn away, she gave him a surprise. "I've always been fascinated by muggle artifacts."

And that was it.

From that one line, Draco could tell all the thousand of doubts she had and all the thousands of things she wished to tell Draco that she couldn't tell others. Too soon, she got comfortable and told him all about her fascination. The things she glimpsed when she went through a Muggle alley. The accessories that so stunned her. She told him that Muggles fashion style was so much better than wizards. She told him about leather jeans and tight jerseys. She told him about the necklace she saw on a Muggle shop one day, and how her mother wrinkled her nose at it and said that it was trash. But even if it was trashed, Pansy wanted it. She wanted it like Eve wanted the forbidden fruit.

Later, she announced her decision. She would support Draco through everything.

"Because, I think-" she said, pausing. "I feel like you are right. Like you_ know_." she had said mysteriously.

But despite that, she had also convinced him not to reveal the truth of his resolve just yet.

"The Dark Lord's return hasn't actually hit some people. When the day for choices would come, you can choose to leave without leaving a mess of rumors and regrets behind. You need us and we need you. We can't have Nott take your position, because you are our one and only leader."

And there they were, the other day, convincing half of the members that Draco was their one and only leader. And that, Nott couldn't replace him. That was the conclusion, at least.

Draco knew things weren't over yet. He still had a fight to bear in the future and he wasn't looking much forward to it, but things had calmed down since the day he had shown up at the Slytherin Top Secret Meeting.

-0-

Angling his Nimbus 2001 a notch high, Draco in a flash turned his broomstick approximately 230 degree and chased down the sneaky little golden snitch with increasing velocity. The snitch flew up as his hand was reaching out for it, but he grit his teeth and promptly dove for it. They played a little game of who gives in first and drifted closer and further away, playing feints on each other as they moved around the Quidditch field. The rush of the wind, the heat pouring over his head as sweat dripped through his practice clothes, the locks of blond hair that kept coming over his vision of the ball, the adrenaline rush that enraptured his veins, and the red-hot determination of winning filled him with a relaxing euphoria that he hadn't recognized he needed until he had it.

He missed this; flying.

And more than that, he missed flying wildly. He had always been controlled and elegant with his broomstick, never taking stupid turns. Unless it involved Potter, of course. Then, he became so wild, nothing could stop him, but a fall to the ground from a hundred feet height or a bludger to the head.

The ferocious instinct that lead his every reckless move was what he had waiting to try. And it was so much fun.

That was it. It was fun. He felt so confident that he felt he could even take on a Dragon with his broomstick.

He caught the snitch for the third time that day and flew down to the ground with it struggling to get out. He smirked, knowing that the inanimate yet magically enchanted ball was just looking for some time to fly freely.

"Well done." Montague said as Draco handed over the snitch in his hand. "You've gotten better. Practiced much in the vacations?"

"Yeah." he lied. "Thought it's about time I won against Potter."

Montague grinned nastily. "Of course. But Potter's got a Firebolt this time."

Draco shrugged. "I'm sure you've got some plan that will leave Potter in the dust, even with his oh-so wonderful firebolt."

"Oh, I do." laughed Montague and Draco smirked, pretending to be pleased. "I did love your suggestion of hustling, by the way. But still, I think, our trade-mark strategy is much better. Do you know a girl is the Gryffindor's captain, this time? We'll beat those blood-traitors and Potter won't be able to do anything about it."

"Oh, definitely." Draco agreed with him, thinking sarcastic thoughts inside his head. "So, am I done here? Cause' I really need to shower."

"Yeah, sure. But before you go, help me with those boneheads, would you?" Montague pointed at the sky where Crabbe and Goyle kept on knocking the poor bludger with their bat like a bouncing ball. "They've proven their point. They're good, I get it. But would you tell them to just stop?"

Draco snickered. "Sure thing, captain." He looked up and shouted: "Vincent! Greg!"

His two followers looked to him mid-batting like the idiots they were and evidently, were hit on the head by the bludger they had been abusing before. Both were knocked out of their brooms and fell to the ground with a thud. Fortunately, the small height with which they fell wouldn't give them much wounds.

Montague shook his head, looking tired. "Idiots." He picked up his broomstick and flew up to recover the freed bludger.

Draco looked around as Warrington, and Pucey who had just come out of the Quidditch Locker room- changed into their casual attire again- noticed Crabbe and Goyle lying on the ground and ran across the field to where they lay.

Feeling dirty with all the sweat and grime on his face and body, Draco grimaced and called out: "Pucey! Warrington! I'm going ahead. Take them to Madam Pomfrey, would you?"

The two Slytherin Chasers nodded at him as they picked up the boneless, limp bodies of Crabbe and Goyle.

"Don't worry about it!" Warrington shouted since the distance from their place to Draco's was far.

Draco nodded back at them and went to the Locker room. Entering the doorway, he immediately took off his robes and his shirt. Putting the dirty garments back in his locker, he sat back on the bench and sighed, taking a deep breath.

Suddenly, he heard the door behind him slam shut. Startled, Draco turned to look and found nobody there. Narrowed eyes studied his surroundings for some sign that somebody was there and when he found no-one, he let out the query: "Who's there?"

When he heard nothing in response, he stood up and that's when Harry Potter decided to reveal himself.

"It's me." He said, standing so close to where Draco was that Draco almost fell over.

"Potter?" He asked in disbelief. "What are you doing here?"

"I-" Potter was about to say something, but Draco shushed him as he heard a thump from outside. Potter glanced behind and vanished under the invisible cloak quickly. A second later, Bletchey turned up at the door. He looked to have ran here.

"What's up?" Draco asked.

"Montague sent me to take Crabbe and Goyle's things from the locker." Bletchey replied.

"Oh," Draco said, sounding indifferent. He turned over and pointed at where Crabbe and Goyle's lockers were. "They're there."

"Thanks." Bletchey said and opened the locker, shuffling over with the various things in there. "Okay, this is too much. Wanna help?"

"Nah." Draco replied and continued to undress, trying not to pay mind to the idea that Potter may be looking. Taking off his pants and boxers, he took a towel from the locker and walked over to the shower stalls. Entering a shower stall at the very corner and opening the shower, he waited as he heard lockers clatter, footsteps leave, and a door slam.

"He's gone." said Potter from somewhere near and Draco rolled his eyes as he turned over and glared at Potter.

"Gee, thanks for the input, Potty." Draco sneered and turned the shower off. "Why are you here?" he questioned again.

"We have Quidditch try-outs on Friday." Potter informed.

Draco waited for something more, but when nothing followed, he asked: "So?"

"We can't have a meeting on Friday. That's why." Potter replied abruptly and paused before saying: "Ron wants to try-out as the keeper."

"Okay." said Draco as he processed that. He had almost forgotten about that. "You could have told me through the galleon, you know. And how long have you been stalking me anyway?"

Potter turned red and looked away. "I wasn't stalking you." Draco doubted that. He didn't quite know what to feel; a part of him swooned at the attention he might have gotten from his crush and the other now knew that if Potter wanted to sneak up on him, he could (which was worrying). "You haven't contacted me since that day. And you said you would."

Draco winced.

"You didn't forget, did you?" Potter demanded, the look in his eyes almost feral.

"No." Draco grimaced as if he tasted something bad. Just remembering that day was a punch to his gut. A pleasurable punch to the gut, but a punch, nonetheless. "How could I?"

Potter glared. "We have plenty of time now that nobody's here."

"Montague can come any minute." Draco informed. "His things are here."

"Bletchey took them out for him."

What? "How do you know?"

"All the lockers are empty, except yours. And don't worry, I've locked the place."

"You're good at sneaking around." said Draco, impressed. "I didn't even hear you move."

Potter smiled. "I'm getting better than?"

Draco remembered that he had once called Potter's use of the Invisible cloak overrated and smiled. "I stand corrected." He admitted.

"Good." said Potter with that smile. "Now, why don't you tell me what this is between us?" as he said this, his eyes roved over Draco's bare profile before coming back up again. "Because I don't really know what's going on."

Draco quirked a brow, feeling hot and turned on. "Wasn't it obvious?"

"What is obvious?" Potter asked softly.

Draco shook his head, the tremors were beginning to take over his body. "Well, I thought your friend, Hermione would have told you. She knows. Even Pansy knows, partially. Severus knows." Draco listed tonelessly. "And well, maybe, my mum cause' she's really good at guessing what's on my mind."

"What do they know?" Potter urged.

"What you should have guessed by now." Draco lifted his eyes from Potter's body and gave him the hungriest, lustful look as he murmured: "That I want you."

Potter's eyes widened and he stared for a moment in disbelief before he moved just as Draco moved. And their lips met half-way in the hottest, most passionate embrace anyone with eyes could have ever seen. Their hands grabbed at each other's shoulders, head, hair, waist, arms, and face. There was too much need and lust involved; there was much too volatile frenzy that Draco could guess came from the self-control and frustration they had been going through during all this.

Draco's need was much bigger than Potter's though and he couldn't even tell if the need he was venting was just that much.

Potter's hold on him grew and Draco let him, going lax in those arms as Potter turned and pushed them both on the wall opposite the shower stall. Draco pushed his leg up by Potter's hip and moaned as his lips were left and teeth attached minutes later on his neck.

"Ah," Draco lured Potter's excitement through his moans and Potter moaned as well as he ground over Draco roughly. "Potter, Potter." he murmured, wanton. He was too lost in the moment, which wasn't exactly a good idea. The last tryst with Potter had been well-planned so, Draco wasn't quite so worried about it and hadn't let any of his many desperate emotions show. This time was different. Anybody could come. Yes, it was locked, which was a blessing.

But if Montague or anyone from the team showed up here right now, Draco wouldn't be able to take it. He wanted to fuck. He didn't want to be interrupted.

"Ah, fuck me." Draco pleaded as he grabbed at Potter's shoulders. He whimpered as he noticed that Potter was still fully dressed. This was terrible. He was moving too fast. He wanted too much at the same time. He couldn't _do this_.

Releasing Potter's shoulder, Draco rested his head on the wall behind him as Potter sucked at his chest. As inexperienced as Potter was with his tongue, Draco could feel himself reacting to the stimuli and closed his eyes, moaning.

Unbeknownst to Draco, he almost looked like he was about to cry.

"Draco?" Potter asked, stopping his ministrations. Draco's eyes flew open and he stared at Potter who was looking confused. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." he panted, wanting that mouth back on his again. And so, he did.

He kissed Potter and Potter kissed back and they both turned out to be entangled in each other. Before Draco knew it, between the heated make-out, his legs had come to coil around Potter's hip and Potter's shirt had come off.

"Oh for the love of-" Draco stopped from swearing and took his legs off Potter, kneeling down on the ground.

"What are you-"

"Shut up." Draco ordered sharply, and reached for Potter's trousers. Potter gasped as he unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, taking them off half-way only because he noticed that Potter was going commando today as well. "Do you ever wear underwear?" He couldn't help, but ask. He looked up to find Potter blushing.

"Sometimes." said Potter with his gaze averted.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Okay, then." He reached out and touched Potter's hard-on with two fingers sliding up and down at the side. He had to admit, Potter's cock was quite well-endowed. He wouldn't have ever guessed that from Potter's slightly short stature. Draco bit his lower lip, dragged it up and released it with pure sensuality.

Potter muttered: "Wait, what-" Draco moved his head forward and swallowed the hard cock in his mouth. He sucked at it, keeping his teeth away from the flesh as he adjusted to the size filled in his mouth and began to move back and forward. "Ngh!" Potter's hands came to rest on Draco's head and later, as Draco bobbed back and forth to give the most pleasurable experience of Potter's life to him, his fingers tightened on Draco's hair.

Draco's _precious_ hair.

Draco hummed and moaned around the pulsing thing around him and started to use his hands too. If he didn't end it soon, his hair would serve some really bad damage and Draco's roots weren't as strong as people would think he had. Potter, least of all.

"Ah, ah. I'm- I'm-" Potter started to react more strongly, pulling increasingly more at Draco's hair and Draco tried to ignore it as much as possible as he brought Potter to completion.

Potter's semen burst in his mouth and he swallowed it, ignoring his gag reflex as he sucked all of it in. He could hear Potter panting heavily above him and released Potter's limp dick as he felt the bitter taste on his tongue. He pressed a finger inside his mouth and sucked at it as the taste and saliva mixed all around.

"Mm, I've tasted worse." He blurt out after taking the finger out of his mouth. He looked up to find Potter staring at him with widened eyes and grinned. "Don't worry, Potter. You're the only one for me."

Potter looked a little bit dumbfounded so, Draco snickered and biting his lip, he grabbed Potter's immobile hand and pulled it to his own needy cock.

"I made you feel good, didn't I?" He asked, his grin altering into a sly smirk. "Now, make me feel good too, won't you?"

Potter stiffened and not in a good way. "Is this- Is this all a game to you?" Potter demanded. Draco's smirk faltered, panic surging through him. "Am I just another one of those blokes that you have sex with? Are you only playing with me until you're done with me? Are you ever being truthful to _anyone_, Malfoy?_ Are you_?" Draco should applaud himself; in less than a week, he had triggered Potter's anger. And Potter still had more to add to that. "You're always lying. Lying here, lying there. I know you're supposed to hide that you're on our side now, but how can I believe you when you're doing it so bloody good? How can I ever believe you if all you've ever done with me or anyone is smirk like you're so bloody damn good when you really are not? How am I supposed to do _this_ with you if I don't trust you!"

Draco shut his eyes, fists clenching. _Fuck. _"What do you mean, Potter?" He breathed, opening his eyes with difficulty._ Fuck, fuck, fuck._ "What are you trying to- trying to-" blinking back the sudden blur in his vision, Draco grabbed his forehead as an unbelievable pain shot through his head. "Shit."

"Draco? Draco." Potter knelt down and grabbed his shoulders to keep him from falling right there. "Are you alright?"

"I- I don't know." Draco answered, not understanding why his past-self was bothering him now of all times. He pushed away the annoyance, but the after-effect of the pain stayed. "Okay. Alright, I'm fine." He told himself even though, he was having double vision as he opened his eyes and saw Potter looking worriedly at him. "Just- just tell me what do you want me to do. I want you to trust me. I want you to love me like I do you, but if you don't feel the same, you can stop jerking me around like this. I just don't understand what else I have to do for you to get that I am really serious about you."

_What the hell am I saying? What the hell? What the bloody hell!_

Stunned by his own words, Draco covered his mouth and with widened eyes stared at the blurry vision of Potter that was looming over him ominously. He couldn't tell Potter's expression, he couldn't think; his head was spinning too fast, his heart was aching in his chest, and he was breathing much too fast.

"Haa, haa, haa." He was struggling to get his breath back, but it was like something was blocking the passage to his air-passage.

He could hear Potter's voice calling out for him, but the headache pin-pricked at an increasing rate, until he was passing out.


	27. Part II, chapter nine: The Other Side

**Title**: For the First time

**Author**: Mabu  
**Rating:** NC-17  
**Genre:** Romance, Angst, Humor, Adult, Violence, Erotica, Supernatural.  
**Warning:** Strong Language. Sexual content.  
**Disclaimer**: Property of JK Rowling. Quotes from the book may be repeated in here since time is turning.  
**Author's note**: I wasn't kidding about the fatality, ya know.

* * *

**Chapter Nine:**

**The Other Side**

"You capture my attention  
Carefully listening,  
Don't wanna miss a thing,  
Keeping my eyes on you  
Got me on my toes."

**Toes by Lights**

* * *

_"Just- just tell me what do you want me to do? I want you to trust me. I want you to love me like I do to you, but if you don't feel the same, you can stop jerking me around like this. I just don't understand what else I have to do for you to get that I am really serious about you."_

The look on Draco's face had been pained, lines paving on his forehead and scrunching his eyebrows. The things that a look could say, there were no words for it. But just when Harry had thought that he would never forget that anguished look in his life, he was given a curse and reward both; the strained, breathless notes spoken with such conviction that it almost seemed like a farewell confession. It reminded Harry of that day when Draco had kissed him for the first time and left without a word.

There were always confessions at the tip of Draco's casual words, and in his every action. Harry had noticed that; _god_, did he notice that. He had no solid proof for doubting Draco. Nothing. He had been spying the Slytherin to find a solid evidence using his Invisible Cloak, but he had found nothing.

Draco did a very-well placed deception and of course, that was the only thing that really concerned Harry, because he saw himself in the face of Montague, Crabbe, Goyle, Pucey, and every single person Draco ever lied to. He wasn't used to trusting someone with such a skill for hiding the truth and he knew that Draco hid even more from Harry, because Harry wasn't supposed to know or perhaps, suspect that Draco had a big crush on him.

Harry had been aware of that since the day Draco Malfoy had kissed him. Things had come to perspective since then, but still, Draco played such a good game of masks that sometimes, Harry was always doubting himself.

Draco had fainted after saying something along the lines of what Harry knew all along; and so, he wondered if there was any use to all the frustrated, doubtful emotions he had gone through. Harry had been afraid for himself, but now he knew, the one who needed that shield was the blond Slytherin. It was weird to think that, but after today, he knew that Draco was too broken to break Harry.

A hand braced against the rough, gritty wall to hold himself up and replacing it with a elbow, he raked the hand through his messy hair as he breathed deeply. The Invisible Cloak was gripped tightly in his other hand as he waited for a moment to calm himself. There was a chill in the air, or was it his own body?

Harry couldn't remain motionless, it felt like his head was off-balance even if he thought he was standing right. The corridor was empty of sound, only his silent breathing echoed in his ear. The memory of Draco's touch, lips, and mouth on him had left hand-prints on his skin. Harry never knew that something that vulgar and dirty could be so provoking. And then, that hearing a confession could give him so many feelings at the same time; It was daunting and incredible.

Harry hadn't left a passed-out Malfoy alone in the locker room. He had actually been so concerned that he had decided to take Draco to the hospital wing by himself, knowing that it might cause some troublesome skepticism that both of them didn't need.

But Montague had appeared and Harry had left him at it, hiding himself.

Harry had lied to Draco before, Montague's things were still in his locker, but he knew it would take Montague some time to come back so he had decided to confront Draco right there about his intention. Mostly, Harry had been there to see if Draco would still ignore the blatant fact that they had just made out rather passionately and recklessly, but it didn't seem like Draco was feeling like denying.

Harry had no intention of snogging Draco again. Well, yes, he craved it like a he craved kidney pie sometimes, but it wasn't like Harry couldn't stop his needs when he needed to. He had lived a pretty self-restrained life in his childhood so, he knew that things he might like to have shouldn't have be his for the taking (unless he was at Hogwarts) and he could just forget about it (courtesy of the Dursleys). But somehow, that magnetizing pull had acted again and Harry had found his lips attached to Draco's before he could think about the haze in his mind. He would have liked to stop for his sanity, but the insane part of him had become dormant and there was just no stopping the attractive pull when Draco had looked at him like_ that_ and said: "_I want you_."

How could Harry? He was only human.

Harry could have followed Montague before_. _He was planning to, but before he knew it, his steps were faltering and he was falling behind as Montague walked away with Draco in his arms (he had spelled Draco weightless doing so). Harry had watched them as they vanished from his sight and then, he collapsed himself. Unlike Draco, he didn't faint, but he was feeling pretty light-headed.

How were you supposed to take that confession anyway? Was Harry supposed to think about it every waking moment? Because he feared he would and that was just not right.

For Merlin's sake, It was _Malfoy_! There should never be something as unlikely as him and Malfoy, but there was _something _and Harry was feeling_ it_ for _Malfoy_.

The worst of it was that even now, after all that, Harry still wanted to go see Draco instead of returning to the comforting and safe sanitary that was his dorm. He should just go back to where Ron and Hermione awaited, in the common room.

But Harry- even after rethinking and reanalyzing- didn't.

-0-

Draco was dying.

Well, it_ felt_ like dying.

Okay, maybe, he wasn't dying.

He just felt so bloody weird. His eyes flew open, but it wasn't actually his eyes that flew open, but some other monstrosity that was controlling him._ It wasn't him_. Which was, as he had thought before, _bloody weird_!

His eyes were looking on to the ceiling of the hospital wing where he must have been transferred after he had apparently, fainted. _It was all that stupid Draco's fault!_ Yes, he was blaming himself; his other self, mostly. Had Potter brought him here? Or...

"You're awake." Madam Pomfrey's voice echoed in his head as his eyes turned and he looked at her while the edges of his vision remained blurred. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I'm trapped." Draco muttered, but found his voice saying:

"Fine. Good, actually."

Draco -finally realising that the reason he was feeling 'trapped' was, because he was_ actually_ trapped beneath a soul that was his previous self- and now, that he had figured it out, he could almost feel the smug condescension of the stupid other-Draco.

Anger fumed within him and he spouted off in his mind (since he had no mouth or no control of the mouth): "YOU STUPID PIECE OF SHIT! LET ME OUT! UGH, I WILL KILL YOU! I SWEAR WHEN I GET OUT, I WILL KILL YOU!"

"Ah." groaned the other-Draco, touching the side of his head. "Or not." he added bitterly.

"Well, it seems like you're going through some stress. It's understandable."

"It is?" the other-Draco asked.

"Yes. Don't think that I don't know perfectly well what's wrong with you." Pomfrey said in a assuring tone, as if she was sure of herself and confident. _Really? _"Since it was a rare case, I didn't know what it was until Dumbledore informed me about it just a while ago."

"Rare case?" Both Draco were boggled out of their minds. Draco knew that if Dumbledore had told her something about him, it was most likely, his traveling back to time; but having this kind of reaction was actually something explained by medical diagnosis?

"Well, I will explain to you about it, but not now." she said, looking off in the direction of the other beds.

"Wha-" Both Draco were about to protest when they saw Goyle and Crabbe lying four beds over with bandaged legs and arms. Of course. The idiots were still here.

"I know." smiled Pomfrey sympathetically, seeing their fallen face (or most likely, one disappointed face). "I will, of course, tell you what to not do until I'm able to tell you about your condition-" then, she sighed, giving Draco a grave look. "Because I don't want you to hurt yourself more than you already have."

Draco could feel the body's eyes - that wasn't in his control at the moment - looking off at Pomfrey with a confused and lost expression. "How badly am I hurt?"

"Well," she grimaced. "At this moment, nothing severe. Just headaches and sudden loss of consciousness. But if it goes on like this, you could permanently cause damage to your body and that's not good. I may be a healer and I may be able to heal any of the wounds that you get from falling four hundred feet down, but to fix rare cases like you would take so much more than my knowledge." she had that helpless look in her eyes, and sadness; as if she couldn't bear not to help a single student.

Other-Draco gave a watery grimace in return, Draco could feel his discomfort growing at the medic's caring tone and snickered. "So, what am I supposed to not do?" other-Draco asked, trying to change the topic so, the woman could stop looking sickly mothering.

Pomfrey hesitated before she gave him a stern, motherly look. "Do not, and I say, do not cause stress for yourself. And I mean this for both of you."

Both Draco stared at her incredulously, a bit alarmed to be referred to as 'both'. As other-Draco looked around just in case to see if there were any person he could find who was referred to as his partner-in-crime, Draco found the vision helpful in perceiving other things. While he may be trapped didn't mean he couldn't try to concentrate on things that other-Draco wouldn't want to observe; like the immaculate covering of bedsheets on the hospital wing beds or Goyle and Crabbe's condition while he was at it.

"You know who I'm referring to." Pomfrey directed and Draco was sure now that she knew. She couldn't get any more obvious by the way she was staring at other-Draco, as if she could see Draco under there too.

The other-Draco nodded tentatively, getting her point too. He sat up a bit and checked to see if his body was moving correctly. Well, at least none of his limbs were non-functional. The way Pomfrey said it made it sound oh-so awful and tragic.

Madam Pomfrey smiled and nodded back. "Now, take good care of yourself." she said, patting her unnaturally warm hand over other-Draco's arm and shifting as she turned to leave. As her profile moved across the large room to the nurse's office doorway, something unbelievable happened.

_"I can hear you." _a voice resonated in his head. Draco started and looked around, but he couldn't see anything past the vision other-Draco was perceiving or better yet, his vessel was perceiving. "_You know, this isn't exactly your vessel. It's _my_ body._ _And for merlin's sake, stop with your thinking. I've been listening to you talk and think for a year or so and it's been maddening. Even now, I can hear you._"

"I'm you, you know." Draco thought in a bored drawl, trying to find some kind-of sanity in the act of thinking and speaking at the same time. "How can you find the contemplation of your own self irritating? Are you really that much of a prat?"

_"Listen here, you stupid future-buffoon_." snapped other-Draco. "_You're not getting this body anymore. You've used it, abused it, and played with it as much as you can and now, it's mine. Do you understand_?"

"I understood that you were gonna be a pain-in-the-arse to begin with, but what I don't understand is that you even have attitude with a wise, more good-looking version of yourself. You're obviously full of resentment and can't see past your 'father-is-never-wrong' phase. Have those one and a half year taught you nothing?"

"_They taught me that you're a delusional prat with way too much to think about and not much to give_."

"What?" now, Draco was offended. "Listen here, you joker, I'm not some stupid Gryffindor git as we've already established."

"_Yeah, yeah. All I've been hearing you do is whine about your insecurities so many times that it's fucking insane and what did you really get out of ignoring Potter when ultimately, you were just going to confess to him_?"

"Oh! You did not just bring Potter into this." Draco was starting to really dislike this guy. Was he really Draco's past version? He sounded so much more coherent and calm than, Draco was sounding at the moment. Perhaps, it was change of positions that was making his every emotion known to the prat.

"_No, it's just you and your stupid thoughts. I can't believe I can still hear you. Why couldn't you hear me after all this time when I was the one trapped_?"

Draco felt smug, then. "Perhaps, because I'm better than you in some ways."

"_You know, this isn't funny. I've had to deal with your crap for too long and than, I've had to see the most traumatising sights that I sure as hell- oh, I just remembered it agai_n."

"What?" Draco was about question when a brief flash of memories passed through his head. Most vivid of it was Flint thrusting into him while Draco cried loudly for him to stop. His body's reaction was instantaneous; warm liquid came up to his throat and asked to be released. He was sick to his stomach. If Draco had eyes, they would be narrowed right now since, a certain fact cleared up for him just now. "Oh, I knew it. It was you! It had nothing to do with me. You were controlling my body's reactions after that rape thing. You were the one who were crying your eyes out through me. You were the one feeling so sick of it that you made_ me_ sick, automatically and then, I had to retch in front of the whole Great Hall. Do you realise how embarrassing that was for me?"

Other-Draco was silent for a moment, but Draco could feel his emotions pouring out; anger, hurt, frustration, and defiance. Other-Draco wanted to counter with some witty remark, but the sadness and the hurt was too much for him. The incident really must have left a scar on him. Draco had been raped before Flint, in the future life-time so, he knew what that first time had felt like. Of course, he was older than. But other-Draco wasn't. He was, what? Fourteen?

_Oh god no._

All of a sudden, Draco felt a heavy chunk of guilt weighing down on him; a guilt that he could not shrug away or forgive himself for, because it was his own self he had inflicted pain on. So, all those hallucinations, all those sick roiling of his stomach, and the desperation to have some comfort was that baby that was stuck inside of him. Other-Draco wasn't grown up; he was still fifteen and he was sensitive like Draco once used to be.

"Damn." Draco sighed, heaviness in his thoughts and in his heart.

"_Now, you realise_." snorted other-Draco. "_It's too late_."

Of course, it was too late. How could it not be? Draco could never apologise, not just because it was himself he would be asking forgiveness for, but because he just did not think there was any reason for repenting when he knew he deserved the regrets.

"O_h, stop, would you? I don't need you brooding. It makes my mood bad. You're always brooding over something."_

"Maybe, you could try and tune me out since I don't need your commentary at the moment." Draco said in annoyance.

_"Nah, I think I'll keep you around for a while._" other-Draco replied oh-so smartly.

Draco smiled in his head. "You just don't know how to tune me out, do you?"

"_Yeah, okay, I don't. Happy?_" other-Draco sounded sour.

"Now, why would I be happy at my past-self's failure?" asked Draco mockingly.

_"It's not a failure, you don't know that_." defended other-Draco.

"Sure."

"_It's not!_"

"Whatever you say." said Draco with amusement, and after one silent minute, spoke: "Other-Draco."

The annoyance that had been fuming off other-Draco started to get all over the place. Draco wasn't sure if he could laugh like this, but it felt like he was laughing.

-0-

Harry stared down through the invisible cloak at the various expressions ranging across Draco's face and had to wonder what he was really thinking about. Thanks to Malfoy, he knew how to eavesdrop now without being totally conspicuous, but he didn't have a spell to read minds. He had heard something about it from Hermione, but half the things Hermione told him went straight past his head and into a dark hole in his brain where he stored the really unnecessary stuff; also, called the Junk.

Harry also, wondered if he should alert Malfoy to his presence. It wasn't as if he really wanted to spy on Draco, but whenever he thought about revealing himself, he just couldn't really bring himself to uncover his presence. Also, Draco's henchmen were still laying some beds over so, Harry couldn't really be careless about it.

He took a seat on the bed near Draco's and watched his face scrunch up to scowl, then relax before his eyes rolled as if someone had told him a really bad joke; all kinds of expressions. Harry wasn't sure if Draco was feeling so sane at the moment; it was as if he was just stuck inside his own world. Strange.

Harry, kind-of worried for Draco's sanity, moved in as he eyed Draco more closely. There was nothing wrong physically. By the way Madam Pomfrey had been describing it before, it seemed like the problems were purely mental. Well, most of what Madam Pomfrey had been saying made Draco's condition sound a lot like a secret. A rare case, she had said. It baffled Harry and also, made some things make sense. Why else would Dumbledore trust Draco so soon that he was almost immediately recognised as a member of the order? How else could Draco's recurring acts of sickness be related, other than something mysterious or unknown?

Harry had only decided to see if Draco was really alright and leave before being noticed. But it seemed that there were things he could really find out now. Madam Pomfrey knew something through the Headmaster about Draco and Harry wanted to know.

So, Harry waited. It didn't take long before Draco's expressions stopped changing almost comically and his muscles became relaxed; as before, they were tense and hunched. For a while, Draco stared up at the ceiling with blank grey eyes, but then, he glanced at the entrance to Pomfrey's office. He frowned, staring at the open doorway for a moment before he slowly sat up. Harry was ready to stand up just that moment, because he knew Draco was just curious as he was. But then, Draco paused; for a long time, just staring at his hands with some kind of mesmerised fascination.

Then, he made a sour face all of a sudden and abruptly, got out of bed. Harry stood up too, silently staying behind him as he followed Draco into the office where Pomfrey sat behind a desk, writing on a parchment with a quill. She looked up, surprised as Draco entered and smiled.

"Couldn't wait?" she asked, her eyes all too knowing.

"Sort-of." Draco said, turning to where Harry stood invisible. Harry froze in panic at maybe, being found out, but Draco only walked past him and closed the door behind. He took out his wand and spelled: "_Silencio_."

"You don't need to worry about anyone hearing you, you know." Pomfrey said kindly, watching him. "I have wards around my office for privacy already."

"What?" Draco started, looking around at her as if he didn't know she was there. Then, he blinked and stared at the wand in his hand and the thin sheet of spell he had just cast. "Oh. Right. I guess I've just gotten used to using this spell." he murmured, looking dazed.

Harry couldn't help, but remember what Hermione had once told him; the silence charm was actually rather on an advanced level and seeing fourth-year Draco do it with such ease had made her suspicious. There were other thing she found strange as well about Draco and the trio wanted to know what was the truth behind the mask Draco wore. Now, Harry felt he was one-step closer to finding out.

"Sit down." she told Draco and the boy nodded as he sat across from her. Harry took his place between them inconspicuously. "So, I might as well come right to the point; since I'm sure you are very curious as to what it is that's been happening to you."

"Yes, I'd appreciate that." The look on Draco's face was wary.

Pomfrey stared at him for a while before saying: "Sirius has a theory."

Draco's eyebrows raised in surprise while Harry's eyes shot open. "Sirius Black?" Draco asked for confirmation. She didn't have to nod for him to know it was that Sirius Black. "Hold up." Draco raised a hand, looking puzzled. "Dumbledore's discussing my life with Sirius Black, of all people?"

"There is Severus Snape too, if you're so bothered by it." she added with a humorous smile, though Draco didn't seem to find anything amusing about it. His eyes were fiery. Pomfrey sighed and said: "They've been discussing about it, because it is abnormal, Draco. It should _not be. _These type of things don't happen usually. They're extremely impossible."

"What?" Draco snorted bitterly. "That I have a soul inside of me whose actually five years older than me? That I have been controlled by the prat, all this time, until now? And you're concerning yourself with it,_ now_? What were you doing when I was trying to get out of that trapped place? I have been trapped for a year and a half in there and now, you have a theory?_ Just a theory_?"

Harry was a bit lost. He had heard it wrong, hadn't he? What was Malfoy talking about? Trapped where? What was this about a soul? This wasn't making any sense.

Pomfrey, on the other hand, looked surprised. "You're back." she murmured, which made even less sense.

Draco gave a harsh smile and asked: "Is there a problem with that?"

Pomfrey shook her head and studied him with calculative eyes; as if he was a shiny object waiting to be figured out. "No, not at all. Actually, this proves Sirius' theory right, which actually had been very reasonable from the start, taking your conditions into account."

Draco only raised a brow, leaning back into his seat as if he knew this was going to be a long conversation.

"Have you ever heard of the Alliuds?" Pomfrey asked.

Draco's eyebrows furrowed. "Alliuds? No, not at all." he replied.

Pomfrey nodded. "That's understandable. Alliuds have such a conspicuous and mysterious background that most of the books never have any details about them. And how could they? Alliuds have been extinct for a while now."

Draco frowned. "They're magical creatures?" he asked.

Pomfrey smiled. "There is no other way to classify them. All we know is that they're not wizards, but they're not normal either."

"What does that have to do with me?" Draco asked, looking curious.

"I'm getting to that." Pomfrey said, a warm smile on her face. "You see, the actual magical creatures may be dead for quite a while now, but their genes are still passed down generations after generations and while it's extremely rare that a wizard or witch may have this recessive gene inside them, the possibility is not improbable."

"So, I have that gene?" Draco asked, looking more confused than even Harry currently was; wasn't Draco's blood-line supposed to be pure? Of course, that was not exactly true, since Sirius did show Harry the tapestry that depicted the Black blood-line, but why was Draco so easily accepting the error in his own pure blood-line?

_Well, he may be aware of the hypocritical lies his family feeds him._

"You do." Pomfrey replied. "But that's not the point. The point is that Alice, the one who brought the other-Draco here, was an active half-Alliud. There aren't many half-Alliuds found out there, but she was one and since, you owned a part of magical DNA that belonged to Alliud, she was able to transport other-Draco back in time with the help of her powers."

Draco tilted his head, squinting his eyes as he contemplated. Harry watched him for any signs or any words. The words 'back in time' had caught him off-guard and now, all he could do was stare at the blond-haired Slytherin.

Gulping, Draco's lips thinned and there was fire in his eyes. "This Alice girl- whatever she did, can she reverse it?" Pomfrey looked surprised. "Can she throw other-Draco back in his time-line from here?"

Pomfrey seemed to look off at the other direction before she shook her head slowly. "The other-Draco didn't come from an alternate universe. He came from the same universe, only different time-lines. So, if you were to try and throw him off, he would have nowhere else to go." Draco's eyes widened as her words sank in. "I'm afraid as much as you might hate it, this Draco is as much a part of your body as you are."

"That can't be." Draco shook his head in denial and stared at her. "How is it possible that two souls can be inside one body?"

"It's possible, only because the gene you have inherited from your ancestor, who might have been an Alliud- is present and two souls in one body can be maintained if that gene is activated." she explained.

"So, it's activated." Draco stated dryly.

"Yes." Pomfrey gave him a blank look as she said this.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Figures I can't get rid of that nuisance."

Pomfrey's lips turned up. "Is he really that bad?"

Draco averted his eyes, looking sullen and not ready to agree at all. "He's disgusting."

Pomfrey appeared amused, her face relaxing. "Is he? Why don't you tell me about it."

Draco scoffed. "There's no way I would like that kind-of person, anyway. It's really disgusting."

Pomfrey tilted her head, looking confused. "You might want to elaborate."

The blond-haired boy's frown was petulant and he muttered, eyes straying somewhere away from her: "Sodding Potter."

The nurse's eyebrows raised over her hairline. "Yes?"

Draco sneered. "I said, Harry Sodding Potter. The stupid idiot likes Potter." Then, he scoffed again, looking away. "Can you believe it? On top of liking boys, he also, likes Potter. And guess what?"

Pomfrey could only just stare at him with widened eyes. Harry wasn't in quite a position to talk either. There was something quite familiar about this Draco's sneers.

"He likes to fucking get hurt."

"Language, Mr. Malfoy." chided Pomfrey immideately.

Draco huffed. "It's true, you know. It's unbelievable, but_ other_-Draco is actually a masochist. When Potter beat him to a pulp one time, he got _turned on_ by it."

Harry choked on his spit and put a hand over his mouth, his eyes enlarging beneath the invisible cloak.

Then, Draco snorts. "I can hear him, you know. He's telling me that I'm going to hell for telling you all this." he gave a satisfied smile. "See if I care. The git deserves the humiliation."

"Mr. Malfoy, if I may add." Pomfrey interjected. "All the things that the Draco inside you feels are things that you might in the future have felt too."

Draco's smile faltered and he narrowed his eyes sharply.

"It's not good to deny-" Pomfrey meant to add, but was interjected.

"I'm not in denail!" Draco yelled. "I hate Potter and his stupid gang. And I hate-" for a moment, Harry felt a bit stung by Draco's words, but before he could actually feel it, Draco's expression turned a pathetic shade of red. He seemed to be trying to think of things he hated and fell short. Suddenly, he shouted: "And I hate House-Elves!"

Pomfrey's eyebrows raised. "Is that so?"

Draco stared at her for a moment before he sighed. "Fine. I don't hate House-Elves." he admitted, which was almost like admitting that he didn't hate Harry or anyone in his 'stupid' gang. Harry smiled a bit. "That doesn't mean I'm not angry. The git deserves to be embarrassed. I need to make him taste what I've been through."

"Well, you could try and take revenge on your own self." Pomfrey said. "But for your health, I would advise you not to annoy the other-you so much that he causes your vessel more harm, since I don't know much, but the basic treatment of how to deal with an Aliud's vessel getting injured; And by your vessel, I mean your brain."

"Okay." Draco agreed nonchalantly. "I won't annoy him much."

Pomfrey stared at him, unconvinced by his uncaring tone, but nodded. "Good."

Draco stood up then. "So, I'm done here then? I can leave for my dorm?"

"If you feel that you want to, you can. But you do remember that you live in the Prefects' bedroom now?" Pomfrey asked kindly.

"I remember everything that git did." Draco rolled his eyes. "I've been watching it all."

"That's good. You can leave, then. If you have problem, don't hesitate to tell me."

"Sure." Draco agreed and turned to leave.

Harry stayed behind. He couldn't move even if he had wanted to follow Draco.

"Mr. Potter." Pomfrey called, taking him off-guard. Harry tensed and turned to give her an alarmed look. Could she see him? "I know you're still in here so, will you please close the door and have a chat with me. It will be brief." Harry didn't move, feeling like a deer caught on headlights. "Don't worry. I assure you, you won't get in trouble."

Harry swallowed and slowly moved to close the door to the office before taking his cloak off. He turned to her and asked: "How did you know?"

"I have a device here that can tell me the presence of anyone in my office." she told him with a soft smile.

Harry moved and walked to the desk. "I... I'm sorry for-"

"It's alright. I wanted you to hear." she said and paused before adding: "Well, Dumbledore had wanted you to know."

Harry blinked his eyes and stared wide-eyed. "If you don't mind me asking, why?"

Her soft, relaxed look soon turned distressed. "Draco's condition isn't as lighthearted and easy as I'm making it sound to be." she said, looking at her desk with sad eyes.  
"The truth is, I don't know myself what things can happen to an Aliud-to-be. There aren't many research material about them." she looked helpless and defeated as she gestured for Harry to sit; when Harry did, she continued: "Since a long time ago, Aliuds have blended with the Muggle society or the wizard society too well. It's because of their mysterious powers. Some have time-traveling powers like with Alice. Some have the power to break objects by just a touch. Some have the power to fly, without wings or any enchantment. Some have the power to procure flames; dark blue and mysterious flames."

Harry gulped. "Will Draco have those powers too?"

"I don't know, dear." Pomfrey shook her head. "It's hard to say. But right now what I'm concerned most about is that boy's health." Harry tensed, staring worriedly at her. "Aliuds while being made break quite easily. They're fragile in those moments; their limbs aren't in control, they sometimes get paralysis or excessive shaking, their stomach starts to react irregularly, and their whole system function gets weak and all over the place."

"Why?" Harry asked before he could stop himself. He was entirely too curious for someone who already got all he wanted to know in a silver platter. All the questions, all the puzzles, all the lies that Harry and his friends had been trying to uncover; it was now clear as day.

"Some say it's because the activation of the Alliud genes changes the way the body works and why shouldn't it be? Alliuds are powerful, in many ways and not many wizards can handle their genes." Pomfrey answered wearily and lifted her bony shoulder in a half-shrug as she added: "Some die in the process."

Harry closed his eyes. "You're saying that Draco can die?" it was a tired query, one that he was able to utter out even with the head-turning revelations still swirling in his mind. The memories of the strange things Draco had done in the past, Harry could see them in the back of his mind and it was just too much. He couldn't handle this.

Pomfrey paused and nodded. "He has a strong mind, that boy, but he is entirely too emotionally dependent. I suppose it's his parents who had spoiled him too much, but now, he has found you to cling to. And if you're not there for him..."

A pounding was starting to form on his head as Harry grabbed his forehead and muttered. "I get it. Can I leave now?"

He could almost see the sympathy filling in Madam Pomfrey's eyes as she said: "Yes." and he stood up and rushed out of there after adjusting the invisible cloak back on.

-0-

The next day, Harry was leaving the Gryffindor dorm with Hermione and Ron alongside him. He hadn't yet told them of what he had eavesdropped on, but he supposed he should. He just didn't know how to start. Somehow, the urge to talk to Draco was more dominant than the urge to inform his friends of what he had heard. So, Harry walked with them to the Great Hall and chatted with them about normal things.

"Did you tell Draco about it?" Hermione asked somewhere in the middle of the normality.

Harry started and realised that Draco had somehow become part of their normal routine. "Yeah." He answered, wishing he wasn't so transparent when he lied.

Hermione raised her brows. "So? When will it be next?"

"The meeting?" Harry asked. When she nodded, he said: "He'll tell us later." thinking about it, if the Draco they had been conversing with for the past year was now, not present, then, their meetings should be postponed.

His brunette friend stared at him dubiously before she nodded, going back to reading the thick book she had opened before.

"How did it go with him?" Ron asked. "The git didn't bother you much, did he?"

Harry shook his head silently, looking off in the direction of the Great Hall entrance. Draco had yet to enter the Hall.


	28. Part II, chapter ten: No more waiting

**Title**: For the First time

**Author**: Mabu  
**Rating:** NC-17  
**Genre:** Romance, Angst, Humor, Adult, Violence, Erotica, Supernatural.  
**Warning: **Sexual content. Strong Language.  
**Disclaimer**: Property of JK Rowling. Quotes from the book may be repeated in here since time is turning.  
**Author's note**: Forgive me for that complex-plot-that-everyone-hates I've built up, but trust me, it's harder for me to swallow the bullshit-plot than you guys. Well, on the bright side, foreplay is over. I am sorry though, that I cannot write lemons in description. That's probably, because Ihavenoexperience.

So...

* * *

**Chapter Ten:**

**No More Waiting**

"I can't catch a single breath baby,  
Help me now, help me now  
Hurry up it's killing me the way  
I need your mouth to mouth,  
mouth to mouth."

**Mouth to Mouth by Enrique Iglesias**

* * *

Pansy blinked and stared at him when he opened the door to his room and she kept the stare fixated on him long enough till he started to feel uncomfortable.

"Pansy. What brings you here?" He questioned, stopping himself from fidgeting.

"You-" She parted her lips before she blurted: "You look different."

His lips thinned and he looked away, thinking about what he had changed about himself since he had been back in his body, but he could not find anything he _had changed; _he wished to change his appearance, for one. He had just left the Hospital wing, entered his new sleeping arrangements; the prefects' bedroom, and had quickly fallen asleep on his new bed. He hadn't thought about school, homework assignments, or things that should matter. Other-Draco had been taking care of them in such a way that Draco never had to worry about figuring it out on his own.

"I hope that's a compliment." Draco countered to Pansy's comment. It was actually so good to see Pansy's face that he almost felt welcomed in this cold and altered reality. He had gone for a year and half and yet, more then half of the things he had depended on had changed almost viciously.

Pansy's eyes flickered and she shook her head slowly. "No. I meant that you don't look sick. Graham told me you fainted in the locker room." then, she had a mischievous smile on her face. "And that you were naked." she snickered as Draco's eyebrows raised incredulously. Then, she waved a hand at him dismissively. "Anyway, I was wondering if you were feeling alright now. We have Double Potions in twenty minutes. If you think you can handle it, you should come."

Draco tilted his head and frowned thoughtfully. He glanced down at his state of undress and grimaced. "I don't think I can be ready in time."

Pansy snorted. "Snape will forgive anything you do; if you're a little late, he wouldn't care and I know you have spells that can prepare you in less than ten minutes."

"I do?" Draco asked, baffled.

Pansy gave him a blank stare before her eyes squinted as she stared at him in disbelief, her arms crossed. "Really, Draco?_ Really_?"

And then, it struck him as his eyes enlarged in realisation that yes, he _had_ observed other-Draco muttering those spells absent-mindedly in the morning when he would be getting ready for class. Draco sometimes, didn't pay attention to other-Draco's routines during his trapped time inside the body since, it depressed him further that he could not freely do magic like that other-Draco could. But he remembered such a spell. What was it called again?

_Tersus Sursum and Habitu. _whispered the other-Draco in his conscious.

Could Draco really do those spells?

_Of course, you can. You have the power, but if you lack the brains to spell it, I'll cut all ties with you._

Draco, unsurprised by the dead-pan tone of his other conscious, blinked back to reality and nodded to Pansy. "You should leave, then. I'll be heading right after you."

Pansy shrugged with that look in her eyes, as if she wanted to figure out Draco's oddness, but was in no hurry to gouge it out. And so, she turned and left on her own.

Draco watched her leave and sighed in relief before shutting the door to his room and taking out his wand from his pyjama pocket. He tried to recall the spell, ready to cast it when other-Draco commented that Draco needed to be undressed for this.

_I hope you haven't forgotten_ that particular_ spell. Since _mum_ taught you that one._

Draco rolled his eyes at the snide jab and cast the spell for undressing before he tried the Levitation charm at his wardrobe attached to the wall across him. Opening it with his wand motioning the movements, he took out a clean set of uniform and levitated them on his four-poster bed carefully.

"Huh." Draco was surprised at the agility and exactness in which he had cast the charm. It almost felt like a pro. Where did he get the confidence? The practice? It was as if it was all embedded in his brain.

Next, he tried the cleaning up charm and felt a cool sensation spark all over his body. But it didn't end with that, he felt odd sensations almost like a touch or gentle scrub every part of his body. He felt his left and right arms going lax to either side of his body and felt suspended in thin air as the scrubbing feeling left and the cool sensation went through him again. This time, refreshing him like no other charm could have.

"Do you always use this charm?" was Draco's first question after that foreign spell had played its role on him. He not only felt clean, but refreshed and it didn't leave him wet at all. What the hell did this spell do?

_Not really. I use it when I'm in a hurry. Who uses trivial charms to ready oneself if one has the prefect's bathroom all to their self? _

Draco's eyes widened. "Oh." He murmured in a daze, and then, came back to earth as he hurriedly called out: "_Habitu._" as his uniform vanished from his bed before he found himself adjusted in it.

_What a convenience._

Draco ignored other-Draco, instead choose to move across the room to carry his potions book from his desk and turned around, rushing out of the prefects' bedroom and into the familiar corridors of the dungeon.

When Draco entered the Potions class, Severus Snape was already standing in front of the class, lecturing about god-knows-what.

"Mr. Malfoy." Snape registered, as Draco stopped walking when he noticed the heads turning to watch him enter. It almost seemed like all of them knew his deepest secrets, but of course, that wasn't true. "You are late."

"I'm sorry, Professor." Draco apologized with his eyes lowered.

"Sit down." Snape said and Draco went to sit at his usual seat at the back, with Crabbe and Goyle. He saw Pansy from the corner of his eyes, raising her eyebrows at him as her lips turned up in mirth. Draco couldn't understand her amusement, and raised his own eyebrows in question. She shrugged, her eyes glinting in mischief. Draco rolled his eyes and looked away, trying to concentrate on Snape's words.

As Snape lectured about some of the uses for bezoar, Draco found meaning in the drone of Snape's words and could attach connections to things he didn't even know he knew. Then, he realised that other-Draco's intellect was affecting him and it really was almost like merging their cognition, memories, and was personality next? They weren't the same, Draco evidently could deduce by his own observations so far, but he knew it wouldn't work either way. They couldn't co-exist if Draco didn't allow other-Draco's wishes, attitudes, and words to merge with his own. They had discussed it after Draco had left Pomfrey's office. Draco denied it as long as he could, but he could almost see the changes he so wished he didn't have to see.

The world around him had changed; his plans had changed, his alliance had changed, his views had changed, and he remembered all too well what that meant.

"Care to explain why your attention is so reverted-" Draco started, looking around as he saw Snape looking straight at the person he so was haunted to face, at the moment. "-Mr. Potter?"

Potter stared defiantly at the Potions' Master and seemed to hold his tongue back as he said: "No, sir. Nothing."

Snape continued to discomfort Potter in front of the class, questioning, shrewd, and insulting as ever. Draco wondered why it felt so old watching this scene, all of a sudden. For all he knew, he always enjoyed the sight of Potter being tormented by his favorite teacher; it was one of his many personal delights in life, but the memories the other-Draco had shared with him, made this scene become more frequent and repetitive than it had been.

_Glad that I'm of some influence to you. _talked his other-self, snorting. _Do you know how slow you are being? It's obvious that you'll find it boring. Hell, I think everyone's tired of it, at this point. I only used to enjoy it, cause' I hated Potter._

_"I hate Potter even now." _Draco countered indignantly to himself.

_Right. _was the sarcastic remark he got in return.

Draco ignored the othe_r_ and looked down at his opened Potions book, reading the words he could make out and continued to read serenely as the tense environment around the class increased and decreased, depending on Snape's icy reprimand or Potter's outraged silence.

He was so immersed with the book; because it was so interesting and invigorating that he didn't notice Snape and Potter's tensed battle in class had already ended, and Snape had announced the instructions for their next Potion. It wasn't until Pansy nudged him that he started moving to pick up supplies for what other-Draco told him was the Deflating Draught (since he had heard it even when Draco hadn't).

_It's weird, but I don't feel so trapped anymore. _conversed the almost cheery Draco inside of him. _My only complaint is that you're avoiding Potter and he doesn't essentially like that. He's scolded me about it more than once._

Scolded? Potter jostled other-Draco around like a puppet, forcing him to talk when other-Draco didn't want to. Well, he couldn't place all blame on Potter. Other-Draco hardly made things fair; he actually liked provoking Potter, while Draco winced at the abuse his body had to take (and more so, the bruising force put while snogging.)

It scared him.

_Well, that's not entirely what you feel with Potter. _said other-Draco in an all too knowing tone; as if he talked from experience. And then, Draco experienced flashes of memories right that moment of intense eyes; green and fierce like flames or cloudly smoke. He could feel the emotions while witnessing that image of those daunting green eyes; a prickle of fear (intimidation), envy (admiration), anger (rejection), grudge (fascination), jealousy (attention), and a dosage of hate (love). Goosebumps spread across his whole body as he shuddered when the memory ended and all he could do was stand in the middle of class, feeling the chills of not only Potter's angry gaze, but his own desires. It was plain to see; he assumed it had always been.

_You know, you're taking this Potter and you thing quite easily. _said other-Draco suspiciously.

"_Do I look like I'm dealing easy with it?" _Draco asked irritated, as he gathered a Bezoar, and unicorn horns as he went on through the ingredients.

_But at least, you're not on the first stage: Denial. I thought you would be. _

Other-Draco had been so good with being silent. Why had he decided to talk when Draco was in the middle of a class? Couldn't he bother Draco when there was no-one around to give him weird looks if he grimaced or made faces by himself?

_"Oh please, I've lived in your head doing nothing, but listening to your thoughts." _Draco commented.

_So, you were convinced during that part? _Other-Draco sounded surprised.

_"No. I choose not to believe it was real; it was easier to deal with it that way." _Draco informed. This almost felt like bonding with his own self; a self that he loathed so.

_Didn't that mean you had to be ignorant about everything I_ did_, in many ways? _asked other-Draco, indicating to how everything he ended up doing the past year and a half had been all about Potter.

_"When it got to that, I would think it's just a nightmare and I'll wake up soon. And to tell you the truth, it is like a nightmare." _Draco was talking about being trapped under the darkness, unable to move any part of his body, and hopeless that anyone would come to help him.

_I don't know. It's not such a bad place. I get to see you do stuff and do nothing at all. What can be more easy than just sitting back and enjoying the show? You're obviously in trouble of 'abuse' from Potter._

Draco frowned as he was dipping belladona into his cauldron. Other-Draco actually was right. Whenever his future-self had gotten into trouble or had faced a conflict, Draco had been grateful that he was far away from the confrontations. Now, he would have to face Potter and his friends by himself.

The fear of that touched him in ways he couldn't decipher; was there excitement among them?

He could hear Other-Draco laughing at his thoughts, amused thoroughly.

Draco groaned._ "Oh, I wish I could turn you off." _He thought and could almost _hear_ other-Draco preening in his head and laughing harder at his expense. Draco's eyebrows twitched uncontrollably as he fought to give in to his urge to kill the other-Draco and concentrated on the smell and color in his cauldron.

He couldn't even if he tried, since there were really crazy ideas forming in his head, at this time.

Other-Draco tutted. _Crazy's the understatement. Whatever has your body ever done to you to cause you to want to inflict it with pain? I won't feel anything, I suspect you didn't either when I retched or was fucked without consent or you would have more to say about those incidents. So, please, I beg you; don't hurt yourself. _

Draco stopped from pushing out the bottom part of his lips in a pout and instead, stirred the cauldron counter-clockwise as he added the five black beetles in the potion just as the book told him to do. To be honest, he only looked at the book to confirm his memories of what he already remembered as the instructions for Deflating Draught.

_"You know," _Draco said in his mind almost conversationally. "_This _does_ feel bloody weird."_

He could feel other-Draco smiling at him in approval somewhere in the back of his mind. _Glad you agree._

_-_0-

"Malfoy." called Potter as Draco was heading for his bedroom, just as other-Draco had predicted. He had said that Potter wouldn't like to talk to Draco in front of other spectators, because the reason for wanting to talk was entirely personal and he would most likely chase Draco until they were out of sight and away from unwanted attention. Draco hadn't believed him, but now, he knew that he had to take other-Draco a bit more seriously.

_Thank you. _Other-Draco proclaimed smugly.

Draco sniffed disdainfully as he turned to look at Potter. "Something you want, Potter?"

Potter's eyes were wide and watchful of Draco's every move as he licked his lips and asked: "Are you alright?"

Surprise touched Draco at the question, but he quickly recovered, tilting his head to the side and pushing his mouth up in a, what he supposed, was an endearing way of wondering. "I'm fine, no thanks to you." Draco said, smiling sharply.

_Whoa; bitter, Draco, bitter._

Potter's eyebrows shot up, hiding among his dark messy hair that hid the famous scar on his forehead. "I- " Potter paused, staring at him before he stepped forward, a bit too close for Draco's liking. "I was worried about you."

Draco tensed and took a step back, despite his Malfoy pride that chided at him for backing down from the enemy.

_What are you talking about? You always back down. And Potter hasn't been your enemy since, a long time._

Draco ignored the nuisance in his head that had put him in this situation and instead, watched with a great deal of trepidation as Potter stepped forward with that innocently concerned look on his face. Well, it wasn't fooling him. Potter was up to something.

_I bet that's what he says about you too._

Potter blinked as Draco prepared to take another step back. Draco flushed. Potter was cornering him; Malfoy's did not_ get cornered_.

_Malfoy's also, don't fall for Potters. Apparently, we are well past the whole Malfoy's-do-not._

_"Shut up." _Draco said angrily in his head as a great deal of frustration held him caged in Potter's presence; under Potter's penetrating scrutiny and he did not want a condescending voice identical to his telling him things he had yet to come in terms with.

"What are you here for, Potter?" He snapped, staring straight ahead and trying to keep his head high. He was taller than Potter, but he felt smaller under the weight of that emerald gaze.

"I actually came here to apologise." Potter said in a greatly false act of remorse, his mouth moving too close to Draco's immediate circle. "I know how I demanded answers was too forceful and caused you a great deal of stress as Madam Pomfrey informed me. I wish to make-up for that."

"Pomfrey? You went to Pomfrey?" Draco asked, confused; a kind-of fear traveled back to his brain from other-Draco's reaction and he found himself empathising to it somehow.

Potter averted his gaze before they returned back to Draco and somehow, had turned hypnotic in the process. "I was worried about you so, I visited the hospital wing. She told me you were alright, but warned me not to pick fights with you in your condition; I reckon, she still thinks we're enemies." Potter's eyes gleamed in a way unimaginable, as if he and Draco shared some_ secret_.

Then, something struck him. "Wait." He said, staring suspiciously at Potter's serenely calm and curious face. "What about my condition did she tell you about?" He questioned.

Potter blinked slowly before smiling softly, which was a most alarming reaction for_ both_ young Malfoys to be faced with. "She told me about you-" Potter began. Draco stared breathless as Potter's gaze pierced through him, as if he knew every secret Draco could ever have. "and your future-self."

Draco felt a bit dizzy just then. He supposed Other-Draco wasn't feeling too well after that revelation and it was blurring his vision. The reaction of his other-self was more strongly attached to his physical self then, he might actually like to admit it was.

The blond-haired Slytherin swallowed and asked abruptly: "And what about me and my 'future-self' did she tell you about?"

Potter's quick glance all over Draco's facial features was unsettling. "Everything." He replied, blinked once and then, kept on staring with a cutting gaze.

Draco didn't know what to say. Other-Draco was quiet on the other side; most likely, panicking. Draco knew what it meant for other-Draco to have Potter know his secret. He had wanted the secret to be his to share. Draco didn't get the semantics of the gesture; but it was important in some way. Or perhaps, other-Draco just feared that after Potter knew where he came from, the magic of time-traveling would be ruined.

_You're reading too much into this._

_"Am I?" _Draco let out the query in a whisper even in his own mind, as if he was afraid Potter would read his mind right this moment. The way he was looking at Draco, he might as well have been. It was as if Potter knew that Draco was conversing with his other-self.

"How- " Draco finally uttered, for he could not remain silent any longer. "I mean, why would she tell you?" He was confused.

Potter glanced up over Draco's head and looked back Draco in the eye. "Dumbledore told her to."

Draco's features scrunched up. He was suddenly feeling angry. "He hadn't the right!"

Potter's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Well, if you feel so angry about it; I should probably inform you that half the story I heard by myself." when Draco looked on in puzzlement, Potter gave a wry smile. "I eavesdropped on you last night when you were discussing your 'condition' with Pomfrey."

Other-Draco perked up at this and scoffed loudly inside Draco's head. _OH! I should have known he was there somewhere, hiding away under his invisible cloak. Of course, Potter would sneak around. The guilt wouldn't stop him; no, not at all. He has no regard for people's privacy._

"What does your future-self say?" Potter asked, catching him off-guard.

Draco started and stared for a moment as the full comprehensiveness of Potter's words processed.

When they did, he replied with a straight face: "He says that was very rude of you."

Potter nodded and asked: "Anything else?"

Draco sneered, "I'm not some messenger between you and him, Potter." He said bitterly, leaning forward intimidatingly as he added: "Actually, I have_ something_ to tell you: Keep your nose away from where it doesn't belong." He spat.

Potter glared back, his nostrils flaring as he pushed Draco back, who faltered on his steps. "And you should follow that advise, Malfoy. Lot good will it do you to stop looking into _my_ business."

Draco's thin smile was barbed with thorns and wires. "I'll look into whoever's business whenever I like."

Potter shook his head, his eyes stony. "You're just like your other-self. There's no difference between you."

"Well, Potter, as you know; he is my other-self so, he does do what I do best." He remarked sharply, smiling.

"What? Make me hate you?" Potter questioned in a challenging tone, rage boiling over in his narrowed eyes.

Draco's brow twitched as he frowned in displeasure; a reaction that was mostly, caused by his other-self.

_Oh please. _scoffed other-Draco. _You feel the same as me. Don't deny it._

Draco covered up the affect those words had on him well, sneering nastily as he said: "No. My life mission is to cause misery to you and all your blood-traitor, mudblood friends."

_Draco, _warned his other-self.

Potter's glare eased a bit and he smiled bitterly. "Haven't heard those words come out of your mouth since, the Quidditch World Cup."

"Well, I didn't have my sense stolen back then." admitted Draco with resentment.

Potter's eyes bored into Draco's, just staring and searching. What was surprising in all this was that he didn't look the least bit angry. Potter opened his mouth after a while to say something; words that Draco was reluctantly looking forward to after that period of meditative silence. But he was interrupted as they heard footsteps approach. They exchanged looks and knew they needed to get out of here; they couldn't be seen together. Draco already had many rumors to deal with, he didn't need another to add to the list. He made a decision just then and grabbed Potter's hand as he pulled him to follow. He walked fast, ignoring Potter's whispered protests and questions.

In a short while, he reached the Slytherin Prefects' dorm, which was empty as expected, and he conspicuously led Potter to his room. Potter watched the portrait on Draco's bedroom entrance with interest as it asked for a password and Draco gave one.

"Very well." said the Portrait of the old leprechaun, staring skeptically as Potter and Draco passed by him to enter the room.

When the door was closed behind them, Potter snatched his hand away and looked around the room.

"Why did you bring me here?" Potter asked suspiciously.

Draco sneered. "To kill you." when Potter gave him a blank look, he looked away with a sullen look. "Thought you should know where to find me whenever you need to discuss something with me." He scoffed at Potter's baffled look. "Oh, like you don't know how many times you've come to 'privately' talk to other-Draco about some trivial thing. I'm sure you've told your_ friends_ about my secret by now, so all I ask is that if Granger or Weasley need to confro-"

"Who says I've told them?" Potter questioned rhetorically, bemused.

Draco grimaced at that and sighed. "If you haven't told them yet, you will. The problem with you is that you can't keep anything in your stomach for long. You always have to spill it."

"I don't-"

"Potter. Don't." He warned, giving a dark look Potter's way. The dark-haired brunet quieted down, but seemed perturbed as he stared at Draco. "What?" Draco asked in exasperation.

Potter shook his head, eyes seemingly seeing through space. "Nothing. You just really sound like future-you."

Draco raked a hand through his silky blond hair and froze as he noticed Potter's eyes were fixed on them when he did that. Potter soon looked away though, and Draco continued speaking, yet his hand lay still on his head: "I suppose it's because he and I are merging." He quirked a brow as a shrug. "Much faster than I expected."

"You don't seem to mind." stated Potter, sounding perplexed.

"It's because I don't." he shrugged, taking his hand away from his head and putting it in his trouser's pocket where it trembled slightly. "He's quite alright; my future-self, I suppose." He furrowed his brows as he remembered that he wasn't_ that_ alright with other-Draco. He added as an afterthought: "Except for_ some_ things."

"Am I one of them?" Draco startled, snapped his head in Potter's direction, eyes enlarged in astonishment when Potter smiled. "Am I one of those exceptions?"

Draco stared and found his eyes swaying tentatively back and forth between Potter's green, fiery gaze and his distracting lips. "What?"

"Do you hate that he-" Potter paused, emerald eyes lowering to Draco's lips purposefully before they raised to meet Draco's eyes. "-and I did _that?_" Draco moved his frozen face to shake his head, but found himself immobile somehow. "Do you hate that he's attracted to me?" Potter asked for answers; answers that were forbidden to be talked about.

Draco found that his lips were dry. He licked them and found Potter's attention back on his lips again. His heart started to accelerate at beats too loud and fast; his breath was becoming shallow, and his pulse was quickening. He gulped.

He parted his lips and spoke quickly, words overlapping each other as he tried to ignore the particular emotion in him that wanted to do things to Potter that were slightly impossible, but not unimaginable: "I don't know what you're talking about. What you do with my future-self is his and your business anyway and it doesn't matter. I find such things disagreeable, as you might have already guessed from your new eavesdropping tendencies and I think we're just about done with asking questions and answers that don't exactly need to be answered. So," He looked up to emphasise his point and found his eyes stuck on Potter's lips as if a spell had frozen him to that position only. He took a choked breath and opened his mouth: "You shoud-" He couldn't end the sentence as the rest of his words were lost when Potter captured his mouth with his own.

Other-Draco moaned in pleasure inside his brain as Draco's eyes widened at the real thing. Potter was kissing him. He should feel disgusted; disturbed beyond measure. He should push Potter away.

And yet- and yet, Draco felt his ground shake, his toes curl up under his shoes, and his brain short-circuit; he was incoherent both in mind and heart for the first time. The feeling that filled him as Potter kissed him was one that he couldn't deny, nor complain against. It was magic; sparking beneath his fingers, stomach, and groin. He felt the revelation and then, he felt the attraction to pull Potter closer. He groaned as his trembling hands took a hold of Potter's shoulders, his eyes closing half-way as he opened his mouth under Potter's mouth.

And then, something more bloody weird happened; he and other-Draco synced in thoughts, actions, and desires. He could feel the other-Draco's confidence filling his nerves as the control he had of his body blended with that of other-Draco's and he felt like, both of them were _one_.

There were no separate thoughts shared between them; they felt the same earth-shattering emotions; the momentous high, the butterflies flapping around excitedly in their stomach, and both could not stop themselves from kissing back Potter.

_Love._

As Potter held his waist tightly and Draco gasped in his grip, the words repeated over and over in his head.

_Love._

It was Other-Draco, surely; he was stuck in the delusion that his obsession with Potter was something more than it should be. It wasn't true, yet he could feel those thoughts in his head, not just in other-Draco's consciousness.

_It's part of the merging. Nothing else. _He told himself as his lips entwined with Potter's and Potter dug in and took a taste inside Draco's mouth, tongue slipping in the dark caverns; licking and sucking.

_Love._

Draco slid his hands upward, until they ended up holding Potter's head from either side. He gripped it tightly as they moved their mouths together in harmony and Potter pulled him by the waist, still closer until their fronts met.

_Love._

Pulling his lips back, Potter's hands slid lower as he gritted his teeth and reached Draco's behind, digging his finger-nails brutally on Draco's hips.

"You like this, don't you?" Potter grunted as he pulled Draco roughly forward. As a result, their fronts were pushed to grind against each other.

"Gghh." Draco groaned as Potter's tight grip on his hips caused him an unforgettable pleasure. Draco moved his hips back before he thrust forward, causing that unbelievable friction again while Potter held onto his hips almost painfully, forcing him to collide back to Potter when Draco couldn't follow through due to pleasured, weak limbs. Desperately he gathered his arms around Potter's torso, and pushed closer and closer.

_Hot._

Then, noticing that it was unsatisfactory with no skin touching skin, he pulled away and prepared to unbutton his shirt open.

He remembered in the middle of unbuttoning that he could do this faster if he used the undressing spell, which gave him pause for a second, before he shrugged the spell off his mind. Maybe, some other time.

Draco reached the last button to his shirt when Potter made an impatient noise and leaned into Draco's half-open chest, kissing the middle portion before he looked up at Draco with his mouth pressed to Draco's skin. In those dark green eyes, Draco saw pure want.

"You're taking too long." Potter breathed on his skin, causing him to shiver as goosebumps formed on his skin.

"Sorry." Draco said shakily, his breath coming out in gasps. Potter's lips curved up as Draco hastily unbuttoned the last button and took his shirt fully off.

"Never thought you would apologize to me. Much less, for this." Potter murmured before biting harshly on Draco's nipple.

"Ah!" Draco cried, arching his back as he rested his hands over Potter's head.

"Well, I forgive you." Potter said and licked Draco's nipple before he sucked at it.

"Never thought _you_ could be so bold." Draco countered wryly, panting and hissing when Potter twisted his other nipple with his thumb and fore-finger and then, bit it with his tongue swiping and sucking the flesh. "Potter." He gasped.

"Tell me, Draco." Potter said half-conversationally as he raised his target higher and nipped at the side of Draco's neck with his mouth, his hands caressing too gently at Draco's side. "Why can't you call me by my first name?"

Draco froze. Noticing this, Potter stopped and looked up reproachfully to stare up at him as if he was waiting for the answer, instead of concerned why Draco stopped so suddenly. Something told him that Potter knew exactly what that question meant to him.

Draco finally understood and said it aloud: "You're doing this on purpose."

"What?" Potter said innocently enough, pressing a wet kiss at the hollow of his throat. "You've been calling Hermione by her first name, so I know it doesn't have to do with our past animosity." He paused as he nipped at the flesh and asked: "does it?"

Draco closed his eyes as the rumble of Potter's words and the feel of his mouth on Draco's skin was entirely too distracting. "I don't know."

"You don't know?" Potter's mouth left his throat entirely and he repeated Draco's words as if interrogating the person you wanted to shag was quite the turn-on.

"Potter." He gritted out, growing quite impatient and frustrated. He needed release, not questions.

Potter leaned forward, his eyes like the cackling green flames of floo. "Harry." growled this aggressive, alluring creature.

Draco whined. "I don't care. Harry or Potter, I want you to_ fuck_ me." He said with a partly latent desire and half defiance.

Potter's brow twitched in more than just annoyance and he pushed Draco back until Draco lost his balance and fell on the floor on his arse. Potter lowered to his feet and came eye-level with Draco, the set of his jaw so determined and so arousing that Draco almost pleaded.

Hands came up to hold up his chin and Draco was forced to stare straight into those abnormally intoxicating eyes. "Say my name. Properly." Draco sputtered, finding his tongue moving to say 'Potter' again just in recoil, but Potter dug in his nails brusquely on his chin. "Say Harry." Potter besieged, tone insistent. "Say it." He bit out, so fierce, so domineering that Draco couldn't resist even if he had tried.

"Harry." He gasped out. Potter's fingers released his chin and instead, pressed against Draco's cock that was tented under the fabric of his bottoms. "Ggh." Draco clenched his teeth to stop from crying out as he arched his neck.

"Keep saying it." Potter ordered, his hands kneading at Draco's hard, needy cock. "Until you never forget it."

Draco could barely hold back a string of curses, as he had been told to always be elegant and spewing out a couple of swears was hardly elegant. It was Potter- all Potter's fault; bringing out the worst human need in him- the need to express all his frustration, all his want, and desires.

"Harry." He said instead of all the offending words on the tip of his tongue. He was going mad- nutty like his future-self had after he realised that Potter was an attractive force that was pulling at him- pulling him in. "Harry." He murmured again, wanting to please the creature holding him caged in obedience. "Harry!" He insisted, crying out.

"Shh." Potter finally came to rescue, voice soothing and held with such promises. Draco noticed that he had already unfastened Draco's trousers and was taking them off, which made him look at Potter's face with parted lips. Potter noticed his stare and returned his gaze back to Draco.

Somehow, it felt like they had a full conversation with their eyes.

"Are you sure you want this?" Potter asked in his mind.

Draco would hesitate and say: "Yes. It's insane, but I want this." And other-Draco would agree whole-heartedly with everything Draco would say.

"I want you. God, you're so beautiful." Potter's eyes appraised.

Draco's eyes returned it with uncharacteristic shyness. "Yes, I know I'm beautiful. But do you know, Potter? You're more damn beautiful than anyone I've ever known."

And then, they kissed again; felt each others' desperation to the level of a suffocating frenzy and then, realised that they wanted more contact and helped each other take off Potter's uniform off with breakneck speed. Their attires would later be seen lying around on different sides of Draco's room. Also, later, Draco would notice that they could have just shagged on the bed, which was closer than they would like to exaggerate in their mind, but he would realise that they didn't take the bed, because even to the last minute, they had thought they would stop; one of them would come to his senses and take a step back or somebody would interrupt and they'd be pulling back despite the heat building beneath their skin.

Yet, none of that happened.

Draco wished to come to his senses, but he found upon later reflection that he had made that decision the moment he dragged Potter to his bedroom. He had been thinking quite clearly since before then, and yet, it hadn't stopped him from snogging Potter and preparing himself for Potter's entry inside him.

Draco hadn't even thought that far, but as the craving built up, they both found themselves figuring out who was shagging who and what went first and which spells to use for protection and lubrication. Other-Draco, of course, knew all these answers and once, the decision was made, no-one could stop two horny teenagers from shagging.

All that teasing and seducing other-Draco had been doing for Potter to pay attention to him, all the frustration and doubt that swirled other-Draco's mind when Potter said a certain thing or Potter reacted a certain way; it was all inevitable that it came to this moment.

The moment when Potter thrust in and Draco backed up, moans and cries filling the room; it was a moment that Draco relived in the back of his eyes every single time he closed his eyes. It was so vivid; the memory, even when Draco felt that everything had been a blurry haze.

After cumming and calming themselves down from the utmost high, Potter had gotten up and started dressing up. Draco lay there on the green carpet near his bed and blearily blinked up to see Potter pulling his trousers up his legs.

"Leaving?" Draco questioned casually, wondering if he should panic over Potter leaving or not. Potter had been acting just fine before, so there shouldn't be a problem.

"I should." Potter sighed, as he buttoned his shirt up. "I left Hermione and Ron without telling them. They'll be worried."

Draco sat up, feeling cold and sullen all of a sudden. "You're not taking revenge on me, are you?" He asked, a pout forming on his face.

Harry looked up, surprised. "For what?" He didn't seem to be holding a grudge on Draco. He really did look sincere about wanting to meet his friends so, that they wouldn't worry.

"Never mind." Draco shrugged, looking away. "Just seems weird that your best friends are sorta like your baby-sitters."

Harry frowned, his eyebrows scrunching in thought. "That's not true." He disagreed. "Ron and Hermione just like to be careful; I've gone missing many times, because of Voldemort and what-not."

Draco gave a sleepy look over his eyelashes to Potter and huffed. "Fine. But you have to agree that Granger is entirely too motherly to be a student in her, what-was-it, fifth year." He said with satisfaction. Potter raised his brows, and Draco rolled over as he got up with a wince.

"Was I too rough?" Potter asked as Draco pressed on his bottom with a grimace. Draco glared at him stubbornly. "And don't you like pain?"

"Pain with pleasure." Draco hissed. "I don't like unnecessary pain." He muttered.

Harry snorted. "Obviously." Then, he narrowed his eyes somewhere on Draco's middle and when Draco raised a brow as Potter looked back up again, he blushed. "Sorry." He mumbled, looking away.

Draco made a sour face. "Potter, honestly, you've seen me whole naked. What are you so shy about?"

"I'm not shy." Potter countered, glaring. "You just have-" The dark-haired Gryffindor hesitated, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. "-a lot of hickeys on your chest."

Draco glanced down and saw that it was true. "Well, I guessed I would." He said with nonchalance, not trying to show how proud and pleased he was of the hickeys; he almost felt claimed. Almost.

"Er, yeah." Harry said, his eyes not meeting Draco's.

Draco rolled his eyes and noticed that Potter's eyes bulged out more prominently as Draco stepped closer and closer to him. Once he reached Potter, he stared up into the green, bespectacled gaze and smiled. "Are you sure you're not shy?"

Harry sputtered a protest, but Draco was faster and stopped them with the touch of his lips. Potter's hands stayed still at his side, even as Draco kissed Potter more deeply with every press of their lips together. Closing his eyes and feeling Potter's lips responding beneath him, Draco held on to Potter's shoulders and felt all the tension leave him with a sigh.

"You're my remedy, you know that." Draco said without thinking and blinked, wondering why he said that out loud. But it was true, nonetheless.

"No." Potter replied smartly, smirking. "But I know now."

Draco gave him a dirty look and pushed him away. "Wanker." he sneered.

Potter gave a hearty laugh and turned around. "See you later." He paused at the door and said: "Git."

Draco watched as Potter left and wondered if Potter would be alright by himself, without the invisible cloak. Then, he wondered if Potter did have it in his robes. Draco snorted and murmured, "Wanker" again under his breath before he returned to his bed, to take a good time sleeping by himself, dreaming of Potter.

When he would later, reflect, he would also find that other-Draco's voice didn't exist in a different space any longer. It was his; all his.

Perhaps, this should be a good news; perhaps, this should have some finality to it.

But Draco's good mood would disperse moments later when for the first time, he would feel his magic burning within him.


	29. Part II, chapter eleven: Dreams of Past

**Title**: For the First time

**Author**: Mabu  
**Rating:** NC-17  
**Genre:** Romance, Angst, Humor, Adult, Violence, Erotica, Supernatural.  
**Warning: **Flashbacks (skip if you want), no sex, lots of playful talking (cause' now, I'm just over with Angst)  
**Disclaimer**: Property of JK Rowling. Quotes from the book may be repeated in here since time is turning.  
**Author's note**: Okay, so late! lovely. I mean, not lovely. Let's see. Okay, this chapter is a bit since, we have flashbacks of the future (XD haha). And I just wanted to wrap some stuff up, because I'm very sure now that I want to be over with this story as quickly as possible since, now my OTP has changed. I mean, I'll always love Drarry, no question and will continue to read good recs for it, but right now? My fandom has changed focus for the last couple of weeks. So... I don't think I'll continue on so, I'll be departing from this just when the fanfic is wrapped up.

ANYway, any of you in college yet? I love it, but man, it's hard work every step of the way. Ugh.

* * *

Seven years ago

Draco stood behind his mother, who sat in an uncomfortable-looking armchair staring at the cackling fireplace with a fierce intensity. The shadows of their profile were pasted on the wall, flickering next to the fireplace, casting their profile like they were a proud prince and queen, instead of the hopeless, fearful mother and son they actually were. It was in the look in their eyes; a dread for the new days, for the changed days.

"Dromeda just fire-called." His mother informed, still staring at the fireplace. Draco fought not to step up and ask what she had said. Aunt Andromeda, Draco's non-existent aunt for his seventeen years of life had promised to tell Narcissa of the war's aftermath or so, his mother had informed him of once they had reached the safe-house. It had been just a night since they had run away from the Battle of Hogwarts and hid in one of the safe houses his father owned far off in the middle of nowhere. Draco yearned to know the result of the battle and waited until his mother spoke: "The Dark Lord has been defeated."

Draco swallowed. "Potter?" He asked, hoping it was true and hoping it wasn't.

Draco could see the corners of his mother's lips turning up in an amusement of sorts. "He survived the Killing Curse a second time. And in the end, he saved us all. I really do agree: he _is_ The Boy Who Lived."

Draco couldn't comment at all to his mother's ironic words; the resentment and envy he always felt when someone praised Potter necessarily or unnecessarily was vague and decayed like an old memory. He supposed it was just a memory, then.

"What will we do?" He questioned. He hadn't slept the night, just tossing and turning, wondering about the consequences of war and of the loss at the end. How could he fall asleep? He knew even before his mother had told him that the Dark Lord had died; he had felt it in the mark on the inside of his wrist just after they had reached the walls of the safe-house. But the fear had remained until the confirmation was met.

The Dark Lord's death should at least, give him a breath of fresh air, but he felt that even still, there was tension in their shoulders and stress in the lines on their forehead.

"It's not over, Draco." his mother said with a sigh, hunching a shoulder. Draco was hardly surprised. "The Aurors will be searching for us."

He knew that already.

"And what will we do?" he repeated his question.

"Well, we won't be leaving like your father had planned for us." she said with a bitter twist in her voice. He gulped, unwillingly remembering yesterday- little snippets of his departure from the middle of war with his mother on his right side and father on his other side. He remembered stumbling, rushing out of the chaos that Potter's surprising not-dead-even-with-a-Killing-Curse-from-the-Dark-Lord had caused, and his father catching his shoulder to keep him on balance. He remembered his mother's concerned, stricken face from the corner of his eyes as she ran alongside him and then, the way she stopped all of a sudden as the rocks crunched beneath someone's foot and Draco whipped his head to look on to the face of Fenrir Greyback. Greyback had a grudge on his father; when he was walking around with no preamble around the Malfoy Manor as if he owned the place, his father had said a few things to him in a burst of pride. Greyback had warned him to back off, but his father had done the patented smug smirk of his and he had festered Greyback's anger. Of course, the were-wolf wouldn't let them leave without making a fuss. Of course.

He remembered only snippets of the beastly man asking mockingly:

"Where you leavin'?"

The animal stench from him was potent; just as potent as their fear at his predatory grin. He remembered the exact moment his father stopped wavering and fearing and had stepped up in front of them in a protective manner, with a staggering proud jut on his chin at Greyback even as his eyes were mixed with fear and nervousness.

And then, he had said:

"Narcissa, leave now."

His mother had shook her head in protest, because Lucius wasn't one to sacrifice himself and they knew his father feared, but the next moment, Lucius Malfoy was turning to look at them and Draco had finally seen the icy determination in his eyes just like his mother had; the one that perhaps, made them both think at the same time: like before- before the Dark Lord had returned. He had been ready even to forgive his father right then and there; and he supposed when Lucius Malfoy stared into his eyes one last time, he knew he was forgiven.

And then, his mother was leading him to the woods, where they would Apparate safely, while his father fought (not dueled. There was no dueling in this war anymore. It was much too ballistic to be a dignified duel with two wizards and two wands) with Greyback.

Draco didn't know if he lost, or if he was still alive, but mum was convinced he was dead. They had waited after reaching the safe-house for father to come or even a message from him, but nothing came and his mother hadn't said anything about his father anymore then he had the will to fight yesterday, nor did he have it today. Perhaps, somewhere in his heart, he knew his father had not lived. When they had been running away, Draco had felt a presence in his mind leave; as if he had been feeling his father's magical presence all this time, but then, it wasn't there. And who better than his wife would know about Lucius Malfoy's demise?

Draco wished it wasn't true, because he wanted to say a lot of things to his father that he wouldn't be able to say if he was dead.

But his wish was benign. Once he and his mother left for the Ministry to turn themselves over, the confirmation he was met with of his father's death was a piece of paper with the names of dead bodies found of the various Death Eaters

The Aurors who had been in charge of them had given them probation until their trail.

On the trail day, Draco and his mother had stood on court and had explained their actions as an act of survival. Some had snorted at the notion, others had remained stern and dubious. It was Potter's confession, of course, at the end that had saved them from any charge, whatsoever. Draco was entirely innocent, because he was "a child" and he had "no choice in the matter"; and his mother was pardoned from her part, because she "betrayed the Dark Lord" and gave Boy-Who-Lived the element of surprise on his side.

Potter was quite convincing; Draco hadn't thought he would have gotten out of his crimes even if he was "just a boy" if it hadn't been for the shocking fact that Potter had been present the day Dumbledore died at the Astronomy tower. It was his words that had cleared up the Malfoy name.

Draco had met Potter's eyes across the court, to see through the apathy and find some smugness, mocking cruelty hiding beneath, but turned out that Boy-Wonder didn't want anything in return for his help. He was just a very good boy, as his mother had proclaimed unbelievably.

Later, after the trail, his mother had walked up to Potter and his friends and he had followed as she gave her gratitude and Potter accepted it awkwardly, glancing at Draco for some sign of a reaction, but Draco only looked away; he hadn't the words. He didn't want to thank the Boy-Wonder and yet, he did in some twisted way.

When they returned to the Malfoy Manor did Draco's breath of relief leave him. You-Know-Who was dead, he wasn't charged excessively like other Death Eaters, and he was alive, standing in his home.

Aunt Andromeda had visited them the next day, chatting with his mother and Draco in a polite tone before she broke down into sobs in between and Draco found that she had lost her daughter and her husband in the cruel war. She had her daughter's son, Teddy; he was all she had left and she cried and cried while mum comforted her. Draco figured his mother and her sister were having a sort-of reunion and left after a while.

Then, Andromeda would always visit them and tell them about all the little things that happened behind their backs. Like the fact that Potter was Teddy's godfather and that, he had been baby-sitting Teddy the first day Aunt Andromeda had visited. She had praised Potter non-stop, describing his relationship with Weaslette, and then, she had brought Teddy with her for a visit. Draco had once asked his mother if she was turning into a blood-traitor too and she had given him a stern look before she had said:

"By now, you should have already realised that if we want to survive in this society; we need to cultivate relationship between the ones that you were raised to hate and dislike."

"Yeah." Draco agreed. He had seen the result of their discrimination, he didn't any more of that hatred to fester either. "But it's almost as if you enjoy your time with her."

"She's my sister." was all his mother had said about the matter and Draco knew what she meant; family was everything to them and Aunt Andromeda was all they had left in their family.

Things were starting to become normal; constant and months later, the day came when Draco was asked to come back to Hogwarts.

Draco evidently refused to go, but his mother and Aunt Dromeda convinced him anyhow.

Draco's eighteenth year was spent in a rebuilt Hogwarts as a special eighth-year. Some constructions to Hogwarts were still to be made and Granger had made an extra-curricular club that was in charge of helping and assisting in the rebuilding. Draco wanted no part of it; he only came here to pass his N.E.W.T.S, he told himself.

But Granger was rather bossy. And Weasley mocked him for becoming one of her man-servants with Potter laughing aloud in the background when he had in the end, come to help her like all of the other eighth years had been doing.

Somewhere along the way, the people around him had softened up to him and there was a sort of camaraderie in their playful insults as they worked together on projects and studied together for the N.E.W.T.S. He wasn't saying that it was all easy; he got into fights, but the Golden trio had matured in more ways than one and Draco felt exhausted when listening to others accuse him of things his mother had said weren't his fault. He took their words and their nasty attitudes, because he saw the sorrow of the war in their eyes. Eventually, that spark of fire had died down; he suspected the trio had something to do with it, but never commented on it, because he was grateful to be left alone.

But when it came to Granger; he had found himself immersed in Advanced studies for their N.E.W.T.S exams with her while Potter and Weasley begged for tutoring help as their brains were roasting over the difficult subjects (it had almost seemed like a lively scene out of a happy fairytale, but Draco didn't deny himself the moments). There were other Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs, Ravenclaws, and a few Slytherins (Pansy, Greg) who joined them in these study group meetings and all the remaining eighth year students had gotten to know each other a bit better. All Houses had united and even if they weren't friendly at first, they found that each of them had something in common with each other.

On Potter's nineteenth birthday, they were invited the summer after graduating from Hogwarts. Potter and him hadn't had any private conversations; just outward social discussions in which Weasley and Granger were around somewhere. They didn't share any pain of theirs in these united projects; just convenient friends who would soon go their separate way. Even as Draco went to Grimmauld Place for Potter's birthday for that last farewell, he hadn't any idea that he had any feelings for Potter.

Perhaps, he had noticed the appeal of the Boy-Who-Lived long ago, but instead of admiring it like his heart did, he had chosen to be repulsed by it.

Then, Potter had come up to him during the party.

"Thanks, Draco. For coming." He said, taking a sip from the Butterbeer in his hand.

Draco had grimaced. "I'm starting to regret it, Potter. If you only have Butterbeer in here, I don't think I'll be staying long."

Potter smiled. "Don't worry, there's whisky too. Somewhere." He looked around the living room and shrugged. "Hermione did say she had them somewhere. I don't where they are, but you should ask her."

Draco shook his head exasperatedly. "Potter, you complete nutter." Potter didn't look so surprised at the insult. By now, it must sound like an endearment to him. "You have all that money, couldn't you have hired a few waiters and maybe, a hall. Cause' this place looks like a haunted mansion than a house."

Potter snorted. "It kinda was, before. There was a portrait of Mrs. Black with a permanent sticking charm right here and she used to scream all kinds of ugly words and even if you told her to shut up, she didn't." He smirked. "Hermione had this brilliant idea just a few days ago and fortunately for you now, this house looks so much more normal than it used to be. So, be thankful, Malfoy. At least, I did you a favor. Trust me, you wouldn't want to hear her scream. She could go hours."

"I'm sure I don't." Draco said dryly, looking around at the place and then, frowning at Potter who stood beside him, chugging his butterbeer and smiling all cheerily. "What are you here for anyway, Potter?"

Potter detached the glass of Butterbeer from his mouth. "Oh yeah." He said like he just remembered something he'd forgotten. He turned to Draco with a friendly expression. "I've decided to clear all the really bad air between us so, that I don't come back somewhere in the future and think, 'oh wait, I had a rival and I think we made friends, but I don't know. He still insulted me so, I'm sure he hates me even now-"

"Potter." Draco interrupted and added huffily: "You're making no sense."

"Well." Potter said with a small pause in which he looked to be searching for the right words and when he got them, he looked up at him with a wide, refreshing smile. "You've been a right pain in the arse, Malfoy and now, I relieve you of it." When Potter looked really proud of what he just said, Draco raised an eyebrow in a questioning way. "It's an apology." explained Potter, gulping his Butterbeer really fast until it was all gone.

"You're really drunk, aren't you?" He asked and when Potter gave him a look of annoyance, he snorted and said: "I believe I owe you an apology too then, Potter. I apologise that you were and probably still are a dumb prat."

He found nothing wrong with his way of apologising or Potter's for that matter. It was just them; they couldn't go all soft-hearted to the other- that would just be weird. So, they did the best other thing than actually being nice to each other.

Potter blinked owlishly at him, mouth turned down in confusion before his eyes cleared up and he smiled and said: "Whatever you say, Malfoy." He waved Malfoy off and turned around, ready to leave to meet back with his girlfriend.

Draco watched him in a moment of indecision before he called out: "Potter." Potter turned around, curiousity burning beneath the green in his eyes. "Happy Birthday." He smirked at the boy as Potter blinked slowly as if what he just said made no sense whatsoever.

Then, when it processed to him that Draco was wishing him a 'happy birthday' he gave a weird look over at Malfoy, because they both knew they weren't the type to wish each other anything. Still, he found some humor from the wish and grinned widely. "Yeah, it_ is_ a happy birthday. Thanks, Malfoy." He shook his almost empty glass at Draco's direction and stayed that way for a moment before Draco made a shoo-shoo gesture at him and he chuckled before turning away for the last time and left for Ginny Weasley who stood near the dancing crowd in the supposed living room.

He found he couldn't take his eyes off of Potter as the boy whispered something to his red-headed girlfriend and she laughed at whatever humorous thing he had informed her of. He watched as she grabbed at Poter's cheek and smiled widely, pecking the Boy-Wonder on the cheek when he gave an adoring yet long-suffering look.

An ache started deep in his chest then and Draco turned away from the sight, walking to Granger to ask if they had any vodka with them.

Later, in the same party, Potter would get up on the old red couch of the living room and announce his engagement to Ginny Weasley in an excited and drunken slur. People would applaud and congratulate him, but Draco would not. He would stay back as the ache became much too evident in his chest and he would find himself unable to handle the pain, because the realisation that came with the pain struck too hard; too fast.

He turned away when his legs could move again and rushed out of the party and never again did anybody see Draco Malfoy's face again. Because just a few months later, Draco had chosen to leave London.

* * *

**Chapter Eleven**

**Dreams of the Past**

* * *

"It's a bit confusing, yeah. I mean; it's not everyday that I get to see-" Harry paused, wondering how he should describe Draco's extraordinary two-soul bit, but he supposed Hermione and Ron understood, by the way they were looking at him. Well, Ron was just looking part-horrified and part-confused, but that was good old Ron; wondering how things could get any more impossible than they already were. Hermione, on the other hand, nodded understandably and tried to help him:

"A prat whose doubly annoying?"

Harry nodded, stifling a smile. "Well, yes. Quite." Hermione smiled and he grinned with Ron shakily joining himself. "He's not that bad though." He defended Draco's non-existent goodness, but perhaps, he was saying this, because just a while ago, he had been shagging the prat well to the ground and enjoying it. In fact, he could feel the heat on his groin just remembering it- but that hardly was the point. The point was that after Harry had found Hermione and Ron sitting in the Common Room, he could not hold back all that he wanted to tell them. He didn't discuss the illicit facts during his discussion with Draco, but did cover the part about Draco being not so pure-blooded, after all.

Ron had hardly seemed surprised at that bit, but once he had found out about the Alliuds, he had just snapped his mouth shut and stared in horror or was it fascination? Harry could not tell.

Harry turned to him after telling them everything he thought he knew about Alliuds. "Have you heard of them, Ron?"

Ron shook his head. "Not really, but- things with such- such power should have been gone over a century ago. I don't understand why even a half-" He paused, his mouth opening and closing as he searched for the word and said: "-Alliud would still exist."

Harry shrugged, tired of thinking through the baffling facts. Nothing ever made sense in his life. "Don't know, mate." He said, frustrated and confused.

Hermione, though, had a thoughtful look on her face. She leaned in, and said: "Pomfrey did say they are secretive creatures and with the power they have, I can imagine they can easily hide from us without being noticed."

Harry smiled. Trust Hermione to try to rationalize it.

"Perhaps." He agreed half-heartedly. All he really wanted to do was to go to his dorm, lay back on his bed and think about the arousing or substantial details of his time with Malfoy. Because all he really wanted to do was think through what happened with Malfoy. When he had entered the common room though, he had noticed the worried looks Hermione and Ron shared and felt guilty for hiding things from them.

Malfoy was right; he couldn't keep it in when it came to his best friends.

So, with great precision, he told them and of course, they were hardly surprised. Lots of unnatural things had happened since Harry's first year and they didn't believe anything was implausible anymore. Although the idea of Draco being a part of some extinct, special breed did cause some apprehension and unease, his friends found it more comical than anything.

"I mean, who would have thought? Malfoy being some half-breed? That's bloody brilliant." Ron got some sort of twisted pleasure from the information when he had gotten over his shock. "I would've preferred him to be part-ferret, but still, this is as brilliant as it gets."

Hermione had been unable to hide her amusement as she shook her head exasperatedly and snorted, her shoulders shaking with the effort of holding back laughter.

Harry just stared at them with a thin, wide smile that he couldn't have stopped from forming even if he had tried.

"Well, that explains so many things." Hermione said after getting over the urge to laugh. She sighed. "I mean, I'm relieved that Malfoy acting weird and changing alliance wasn't You-Know-Who's plan or something. I'd hoped for the best, and while this may not be the- the very best scenario; it isn't bad."

Harry noticed that she did sound very relieved; as if she had worrying about it all this time. Harry rolled his eyes at overlooking this information and softened his eyes as he gave her a scolding yet affectionate look.

She looked sheepish and looked at Ron as he still kept grinning in a silly way. "So," She said loudly, which made Ron jump and gave her a haphazard look as she said: "Now that we know that Malfoy isn't much of a threat, except for his Alliud-descent, I think we should focus more on our studies now. We've harassed Malfoy enough anyway." she gave Ron and Harry a pointed look.

Harry widened his eyes in innocence while Ron protested: "But- but, I finally have something on the jerk!"

Hermione rolled her eyes at him and glared. "I think Draco's had his deal of taunts for a whole lifetime, don't you think?"

"No." Ron remained persistent, jutting his jaw.

Hermione stared at him incredulously as Harry let out a laugh. Then, she looked away with an annoyed expression.

"Fine." She huffed, smiling thinly at Ron. "Do whatever you want."

Harry stared curiously as Ron's face faltered, noticing the glance he gave Hermione as if guilty for his protests. Huh.

This was strange.

It almost looked like Hermione expected Ron to do that; as if she had something in her hands to boss him around with.

That never happened. Ron and Hermione always fought for dominance in their bickering, never giving in to one another's suggestion. Harry had thought that the day the two would agree on something would be the day the end of the world commenced; but it seemed the end of world was coming much too soon.

What exactly had happened the day Ron and Hermione had been late for the meeting at the Room of Requirement? Because after that, they seemed to act strangely towards one another.

Harry grimaced. He really didn't want to know.

-0-

"Ah, yes, Poppy. Come in." Dumbledore greeted from his desk as she appeared at the doorway to his office. She nodded and stood behind Sirius Black who was seated on the chair next to Serverus Snape.

Minerva McGonagall smiled as Poppy's gaze roved throughout the room and landed on her. The Head of Gryffindor stood with her arms crossed, leaning on the wall lateral to their position and nodded at Poppy Pomfrey in greeting.

"So, what news do you have, Poppy?" Dumbledore questioned, his eyes twinkling in the way they always did as he looked up at her.

"I have noticed a fluctuating from the reading spell I had administered on Mr. Malfoy's body before he left the nurses office, but I'm worried, Albus." She informed, her features distressed. "If this is the beginning, I shudder to think what will be the end."

"And you cannot do anything for the boy?" The headmaster asked, his expression rueful.

She shook her head. "Except for comfort? No. He has to tolerate this much pain, at least and then, when it gets worse, I might be able to give him things to soothe down his pain."

"Are you afraid of intolerance?" Snape spoke up, taking her by surprise.

She jumped and stared at his dark grey eyes as they pierced through her. "Yes. Yes, I fear that if he takes the remedy for pain now, he will build tolerance of it in his system in the long run and this is the best medicine I can give him at the moment that will not affect his magical alteration whatsoever."

"Well, that's tragic." Sirius commented indifferently.

Serverus turned to give him a hard glance and averted them so he could glare at something with vehemence without being pointedly obvious. "I've suggested this before and I will suggest again: he should be admitted to the hospital wing for the transformation."

Serverus noticed Black rolling his eyes and felt a black coil of distaste for the wizard. "And we've already told you why that can't happen, _Professor Snape_. We don't want people noticing anything different about him. Remember? He's our secret weapon against Voldemort."

Snape gritted his teeth together and looked to the Headmaster. "I ask again, Headmaster, that you reconsider your decision. Do you want a child-" Black snorted. Snape gritted his teeth and continued on: "-to suffer through the pain without assistance?"

"That is why we have Harry looking after him." Dumbledore replied, his smile regretful yet assuring. "We cannot interfere with the process if we don't know how it can be controlled. All we can hope is that-"

"Forgive me, Headmaster, but I find the idea of ignoring such a significant change abhorrent." spat Snape. "It is disgusting that we'll have to wait throughout the process while _Potter, _an ignorant child who knows nothing try to assist him." His sneer was nasty and full of poison.

McGonagall who had been quietly observing them from afar took a step in and said: "I'm afraid I'll have to agree with Serverus. I do find it just a bit wrong that a child- a student of ours is suffering and we sit with our hands on our laps. It doesn't seem fair for the boy."

Snape didn't seem to look grateful for her rooting for him, instead he glared daggers at the ground, knowing her agreement wouldn't save Malfoy from his suffering.

"You are right, Minerva." Dumbledore said, deeply upset. "We should not." A pause and then: "But as Poppy has informed us; we cannot do anything for the boy, except for a few pain remedies when the pain turns excruciating, we are of no use to him. All we can do is comfort him and staying in the hospital wing would hardly take away that pain."

"What about his classes?" Poppy couldn't help, but question. She only knew about the boy as far as his condition, but outside the hospital wing, she didn't know anything else. She knew the Malfoy boy had to go, since they couldn't raise suspicions with Malfoy suddenly not taking interest in his classes when he was a Prefect.

"All the teachers have been informed that Mr. Malfoy is fragile at the moment and going through a tough cycle. They have all been sworn to secrecy and more than ready to help Malfoy through his rough patch."

"Anyone's bound to notice, Albus." Minerva interjected, looking nervous. "We will assist as best as we can, but- but-"

"But what about Quidditch? What about Malfoy's ranks? His father will notice something is wrong, if Draco starts to fall on his studies and extra-curricular activities." Snape snapped, irrational anger building up.

Poppy gave a grimace and said: "Well, we're hoping the pain will only bloom when he is sleeping. If it happens other times, we can only cover it up as best as we can."

"So, that's our brilliant plan?" Snape asked.

Sirius relaxed back in his chair. "It's better than nothing." He murmured, noticing the sour look pasted on Snape's face and secretly pleased by it.

"It's not going to work." Snape stated, his tone knowing.

"Who knows? It may as well." Poppy said optimistically. "I have to wonder how all the other Alliuds and that girl, Alice were able to hide their identity. It should be hard to not notice with their magic changing; but somehow, nobody has any idea about Alliuds. You have to wonder about that."

"Or perhaps, people knew like us, but didn't say." Sirius shrugged.

"Maybe." Poppy nodded in agreement and murmured under her breath: "Or maybe not."

A mystery; that's what it was.

-0-

Draco was dreaming of the past; of seven years ago when the war had been over and people had grieved over their loss and people had laughed to cover up that pain. He had formed unusual friendship with certain people back then, most unusual being the trio itself. The dream continued in a chronological sequence until he was seeing the last of the dream; he had told his mother that he was leaving for Berlin for a year or two and his mother had been confused, angry. Since their banks had been released and his mother had taken father's job, she didn't need him for a while and Draco wanted to leave- to go away from all the joyful weddings until the ache could be dampened and forgotten.

And then, the dream had faded and the burning had encompassed him and he had crossed off from the memory in his dream (which had been painful) into a nightmare (which was too much pain to not be real); where nothing made sense. He clutched his chest, crying and tried to breathe, but it was hard and-_ oh god_, he couldn't breathe. He rolled over in his frustration and fell off his four-poster bed, landing with a thud on his back and hitting his head in the process.

"Ow!" Draco grabbed his head with one hand and tried to sit up with one of his elbow settled on the ground. He looked around as the inside of his chest seared through like a slash of a knife and he could feel something coming up, trying to reach his throat. He opened his mouth hesitantly and saw rather than feel his magic leaving him in one breath.

_What the bloody hell?_

"Lovely, isn't it?" Draco's eyes widened as the familiar voice echoed in his ear and he found himself staring at a pair of feet. He looked up slowly, to meet the face of Alice, the half-Alliud who had been the instigator to all this. His eyes widened in shock as she smiled, kneeling down in front of him. "First, half of your magic leaves and then, the structure of your magic changes as a new magic is procured inside of you. It's like having a baby." she had a cheeky smile on her face.

Draco's lips were dry as he licked them and spoke through the shock, his words coming out stale, instead of dry: "Sounds fun."

Her smile was open, lighthearted and he remembered all the conversations they used to have over drinks. She was so familiar and so real.

"Why are you here?" He asked, swallowing down the magic that was insisting that it get out. Draco didn't know why he was resisting when he knew it was inevitable, but he felt like a part of him was leaving with his magic.

"You didn't ask how I got here." She pouted. He glared at her and she snorted. "Right, I forgot; you already know."

Draco's lips thinned as he looked down. "I really wish you would stop." when he talked, the golden particles that were his magic left him again.

"Stop what?" She asked, stilling.

He glared openly at her. "Stop acting like you're a friend." He winced as the golden filled his vision when he exhaled.

She looked surprised at that and gave a sad smile. "I am, Draco."

Draco snorted bitterly, looking away. "You've been torturing me. I didn't ask for this. I've told you, I didn't ask for this and you still-"

"Didn't you?" She interjected, looking sober now.

He gave her a harsh look, breathing fast and shallow. "I never did." He snarled, the pressure was leaving and so was the heated pain as the golden, magical particles swirled around him and left after a while of sticking by him.

"No need to get angry at me; I was doing you a favor." She snapped, making him gape at her. "You were in love with Potter and he was married." She explained with a long-suffering sigh like it took a lot out of her. "You couldn't, for the life of me, ever try to start an affair with Potter even if you just realised that he was the one thing you really wanted, from the deepest part of your soul. And I saw no future for you, without Potter." She looked really unsettled with the last part, and so was Draco as he stared at her.

"What do you-" He was interrupted as she said:

"I mean that without Potter, you lost yourself." He stared at her, disbelieving and she explained earnestly: "I can see the future, Draco. I'm not a Seer, but basically, I can go in the future and see your whole life. I saw no reason why you would want such a repressed and miserable life. I only did you a favor." she looked thoroughly dismayed at his incredulous look. "Believe me, I wanted to keep you to myself; I wanted to possess you, coddle you, and take care of you every time you fell." Her jet-black eyes were intense as she leaned in towards him. "I wanted you so much to be mine. But you could never be. You. Could. Never. Even. Try."

Draco stared back at her as she smiled and leaned away. "You're strong, Draco and I wanted to take my chances by sending you here. Yes, the future could change drastically with such a shift in reality, but I took my chances. All Alliuds have to."

Draco gulped, the pain that had been brimming beneath the surface had vanished. He touched his sternum, fingers lingering on his throat. "What happened?"

"I only came here to help you through it." She said, beaming. "The right amount of your magic's successfully left your body now, without much pain. I thought you would have needed help with that, since without me, it would have lasted a week or so."

He stared at her with widened eyes.

She nodded. "Yes, I know." She gathered her hands over both his cheeks and he could feel the coldness in them. "I never meant to torture you, Draco. Trust me."

Draco breathed in and out before he nodded, sitting more properly on the floor. "Thanks." He croaked and looked at her carefully. "I guess."

She gave a fast smile and tilted her head. "So, how's it with Potter now?'

The dull ache lingering still from the memory of his past in his dream and the panic, fear and pain after that dream were replaced by a feeling of almost relief. "Er."

"Pretty well, by what I can tell." Her voice had the hint of a smirk as he felt his cheeks warm up in embarrassment, because somehow, she knew; she knew the depth of his feelings for Potter and it was all he needed. "You'll be fine, won't you?" she asked, looking genuinely concerned for him as she smiled softly; reassuringly.

He nodded. "I think. Yes." He stared at her and her warm black eyes and smiled tentatively.

"Then, it's time for me to leave." She tutted and smiled as she stood up, helping him up as well. "Just remember; the next stage of this I can't help you with."

"What was the next stage?" He questioned, frowning as he stood in front of her.

She gave a dubious once-over at him and bit her lip. "Change of magical structure. It's gonna be a pain."

He looked at her worriedly and she smiled, patting his arm.

"But you'll be fine." she said and he nodded, not feeling so sure of himself, but somehow, Alice's words sounded reassuring. "Oh and before I forget-" He blinked slowly as she turned around again. "My real name's Astoria Greengrass." Draco blinked slowly. "Just thought you should know now that you know what I'm all about." Draco's mouth had opened all the way as she gave a painful grimace at him before waving at him. "See you later."

_Astoria- what the-_

Draco was about to call out for her, but he watched with wide eyes as her silhouette vanished right in front of him.

Draco had a moment of disorientation and then, some before he was walking out of his room and into the Slytherin common room.

-0-

Slytherins were getting ready to leave, dressed up in their uniforms; gathered around the common room, or walking off outside together. Draco noticed some of them giving him a passing once-over at him, but he ignored them, finding Daphne Greengrass sitting on one of the sofas in the common room chatting with a few girls. He went to her, glancing around to search out the small figure of Astoria anywhere as he walked. She wasn't anywhere on sight.

"Draco!" Daphne said cheerily as she noticed him approach. He nodded in acknowledgement and sat opposite her as she blinked at him. "What's wrong?" she queried, studying him more carefully.

He gave a quick smile and said: "Have you seen your sister anywhere?" He winced mentally at his bluntness, but he really needed to know.

"Yeah." Queenie answered warily, still staring at him, waiting. "She was heading to the Great Hall with her friends. What's wrong?" she repeated.

Draco fidgeted with his hands and stopped, looking down at them carefully. "Nothing. I just wanted to know-" he leaned in, eyes curious. "Has your sister ever acted weird? You know, a bit loony?"

Queenie glanced around her at the girls gathered around her and told them with a beaming smile to leave ahead of her. The girls nodded, looking curious, but backing off and walking away, their eyes straying to where Draco and Queenie sat and then, turning away.

"Why do you want to know? Is Astoria in trouble or something?" She asked, leaning in towards him as well.

"No, not that I know of. No." He chuckled. "I've made you misunderstand." when Queenie raised her brows in question, he decided to be a little more clean-cut with lying. "I just have this condition- illness, you can say and-"

"Is this about the fainting?" she questioned, looking worried now.

"Yes." He nodded. "Yes, it's about the fainting and other symptoms that Madam Pomfrey thinks is showing up on Astoria's uh- body check-ups too."

"I don't know about any check-ups."

Draco tried not to sigh. Queenie was being utterly unhelpful right now.

"Let's just ignore Pomfrey's check-ups for now. Would you please tell me if there's- if you think there's something wrong with her?"

She seemed surprised and thought for a moment before she replied. "Well, she's always been more of a freak. She cries a lot, which, I think matches with you in many ways." Draco glared at her and she snorted. "She does talk to herself though. Think that's a symptom?"

Draco's mind was turning fast at this knowledge, but he quickly smiled for Queenie. "No, not really. Any other supposed-symptoms you can think of?"

"Well, she has a very bad personality." complained Queenie, looking annoyed and not suspicious anymore. "Sometimes, she's perfectly fine with you and next, she's all cranky like she has a stick up her arse." she shook her head and sighed. "Sisters."

Draco cracked a smirk. "And she's a pompous arse who likes to steals your things and get you in trouble for her faults?"

"Exactly." Queenie quickly agreed and made a face. "And sometimes, she just keeps crying. It's annoying."

Draco raised a brow, wondering what Queenie's real feelings for her sister were. "Sounds fun." he deadpanned.

She rolled her eyes. "Tell me about it." Then, she focused on him. "So, anything else?"

"No. No, I think I've got it." He said, standing up.

She frowned. "Kay'. Whatever you say."

"I'll see you." Draco said and she nodded before he left for his bedroom again. He needed to get ready for his classes; he was already a bit behind on them.

-0-

After Defense Against Dark Arts class, Harry took a long time packing his books up and Hermione noticed, but when he waved them away and said he would catch them later at the common room, she nodded and walked away with Ron. When he was sure they left, he stood up straighter, leaving his bag on the desk and walked to where Sirius was sitting at the front desk, checking some papers.

"How are you, Harry?" Sirius asked without looking up, catching Harry by surprise, but he covered that up well and replied:

"Good." He said.

It was then, that Sirius looked up at him, with that strange and knowing look in his eyes and Harry knew Sirius understood what Harry was here about. "Good." repeated Sirius with a certain well-meaning tone to it.

Harry stared at him for a bit and spoke. "I know you know about Draco."

Sirius' eyes crinkled kindly. "Yes." he answered. "I do."

Harry looked into his eyes and knew the truth of it. "Pomfrey intended to tell me about Draco's er- situation, but I wouldn't hear it. I was tired that night."

"Ah, yes." Sirius looked not a bit surprised nor conflicted. He was entirely too casual, which gave Harry some preamble to talk openly.

"I was wondering what's going on with him right now." Harry glanced over his shoulder at the empty seat where Draco had sat. He had been at the class, but nothing essentially was wrong with him. He was quiet; just as he was these days, but nothing strange. Harry hadn't been watching him the whole time, since his obvious staring would be cause for questions; still, some glances could pin-point that Draco was going to be the same as he always had been since his travel back from time. Harry didn't know why he thought otherwise, but he had noticed changes in Draco's expression when- when they had been together.

"Well, if you want to know that; you should go to Poppy. She's been keeping check on Draco's situation, as we call it, and-" Sirius looked confused for a minute there. "And well, I don't know much of what's going on with the boy, to be honest." Harry raised his brows questioningly and Sirius sat up on his chair, looking serious. "Poppy informed us in the morning that Draco was suffering from- well, from the first stage of Alliud transformation. His magic is starting to leave, now that his souls have merged and it takes some time to get rid of the magic that's been attached to your soul for quite some time."

"What do you mean?"

Sirius looked up and stared at Harry. "I mean that Draco should be suffering or showing signs of pain at the very least, but he was- he was very apathetic."

Harry thought about it and then, spoke: "Pomfrey told me that she didn't know much about how this transformation went through. She said there were some loopholes."

"Oh, there are, Harry." Sirius replied, sighing. "But as far as the research went." He shook his head and said: "If the only facts that Pomfrey has gathered are not true then, the boy is doomed."

"Well, maybe, his souls haven't merged yet." Harry tried to reason.

"They have." Sirius said with quite the confidence. "Pomfrey has been able to see two souls for some time in Draco's body and just yesterday, in the evening after the last classes were finished, she noticed that they-" He smirked knowingly then. "-collided together."

Harry blinked and wondered if Sirius knew what he and Draco had gotten up to yesterday and held the urge to panic. "Oh." He gulped, couldn't help himself. "Well, that's great then."

"Not for the Malfoy boy." remarked Sirius, shrugging.

"Right." Harry agreed. Sirius was never one for subtlety, if Harry had to guess and the look Sirius gave Harry told him that it was his responsibility to check on Malfoy now, because as it was, he knew Harry's ambiguous relationship with the Slytherin boy. Of course, he did. Harry didn't know why, but he was guessing that Madam Pomfrey was checking far more of Draco's life than just his body.

"So, any other questions?" Sirius asked with a wide smile.

"Oh no. Not at all." Harry stepped back, smiling a bit at Sirius and noticing the twinkle in Sirius' eyes, he turned away.

_Okay, so now pretty much half the staff of Hogwarts knows about Draco and me. Brilliant._

Harry urgently put all his books in and waved at Sirius, not able to look on his face and trying to not show his embarrassment as he left the classroom in a rush.

"Harry!" Hermione called and Harry turned on his way as he was out of the classroom. She was waiting by the wall, looking a bit guilty and determined. Harry never liked both combination on her and half-groaned at the sight.

"Hermione." He greeted as she came up to walk alongside him. "So, I'm guessing you listened in on us."

Hermione reluctantly nodded, looking a bit ashamed. "Sorry."

"Where's Ron?" Harry asked, looking around.

"He went with Seamus and Dean ahead of us. They had a bit of chess match for the day." Hermione replied. She looked at him out of the corner of her eyes and looked up at the ceiling. "So?"

"So." He was trying to ignore that she had eavesdropped on him and Sirius' conversation and wondering if she caught on to the message Sirius was relaying when he was talking about Draco's souls merging.

"Sirius knows, huh."

"Knows what?" Harry asked a bit defensively, stopping in the middle of a corridor.

Hermione's eyes were wide as she stared at him and he looked away to walk again when she grabbed his arm. "Harry, wait." He couldn't drag his arm out of her grip; that would make it obvious that he had no wish of talking about any of it. Yes, he had told Hermione and Ron about Draco's Situation, but not what Harry had gotten up with Draco while they were discussing Draco's Situation. "I have to confess something."

Harry's attention perked at this as he turned to look at her. "What?" He asked.

She was looking anywhere, but at him. "I might have made a deal with Draco." Harry stared at her and she fidgeted. "Er. Remember that time when we didn't turn up at the Room of Requirement like Draco told us to?"

Harry narrowed his eyes at her, saying slowly: "Yes."

"Well, Draco told me not to."

"For what?"

She closed her eyes, pink tinting her cheeks as embarrassment overwhelmed her. "For Ron." Harry was baffled. "It wasn't black-mail, nothing as evil as that." She hastily added before Harry could jump to conclusions. "I just- he just-" she sighed and then, in a rush, admitted: "He knew how I felt about Ron and gave me tips."

Harry gaped for a moment, before asking: "What kind of tips?"

"The sexual kind." She confessed.

Harry's jaw unhinged and remained there as he stared at her as if he didn't even recognise her anymore. _Hermione? _Hermione getting tips from Draco Malfoy on how to seduce Ron?

It was ridiculous.

"Why- I- I don't understand." Harry was more than confused now.

Hermione took a deep breath, nodding. "I knew you wouldn't understand. I mean, it's not me to try and get some guy's attention by trying to snog him or whatever. But that's basically what I did."

"You snogged Ron? While I was with Draco?" Harry asked. Things were starting to make more sense and less of a sense.

"Well, yes." she admitted, looking awkward and tortured. "Ron took it pretty well."

"So what? You're dating now?" if they were, he hadn't exactly got a memo.

"Not exactly."

Harry quirked a brow curiously. "Why not? I mean, you snogged him-" He paused and added: "-and he liked it."

"Draco- Er, Ron, well, you know how he's a bit stubborn and-" she paused and gestured with her words wordlessly and said: "Draco told me to- to play with him."

Harry stopped thinking for a moment about Ron and Hermione and thought about Draco instead. "Well, I'd say." He could now see it from Draco's position. Those moments when he would appear vulnerable for a moment and the next, he would appear unaffected. Harry had been running around in circles for that snarky prat and the prat had been planning it from day one!

"So, he told you pretty much what to do to keep Ron on his toes." Harry guessed.

"Yes."

He wasn't even looking at Hermione anymore. He was staring right past her and into the big empty corridor where not a single footstep sounded. The students were probably having a good time in their dorms, with their House-mates and here he was listening to the reason why he was always felt so frustrated and behind everything that Draco put against him. He knew; of course, he had guessed by then that Draco was playing some subtle and stupid game as all Slytherins did to keep Harry guessing, but it had never become so clear.

Draco's idea of getting to a person's heart was through manipulating that person until they gave in. It was perfect and it worked. It so utterly worked, because now, all Harry could think about these days was Draco, Draco, Draco.

And the problem was, Harry didn't even know if what Draco did with him was actually for Harry to reciprocate his feelings or to mess with him.

A tinge of anger started up at the thought, but it was soon pushed down when Hermione called his name. He looked at her in surprise and it seemed like she understood what he was thinking just that moment.

"What?" He asked, lost and confused.

She gave him a sympathising look. "Believe me, Harry. Draco isn't- he's not screwing with you. If he's done the same things that he's advised me to do, then it's just his way and you shouldn't think that he doesn't have feelings for you." Her gaze was unwavering as she spoke. "I wouldn't help that person if I knew his feelings weren't anything, but genuine. I wouldn't let him hurt you."

_"You're my remedy, you know that?" _

Harry smiled once that memory flashed past. "You're right. He wouldn't do that." Harry sighed, thinking about his past encounter with Draco confessing his feelings in his own twisted way.

_"It's disgusting. He likes Potter, can you believe that? He got fucking turned on when Potter beat him to a pulp."_

"I think I've hurt him far worse though." Harry admitted.

_"You have to stop doing that." Malfoy whispered suddenly, voice low and full of warning. Harry leaned in to hear him better, reaching a level where he was able to see Draco's pink cheeks real close._

_"What?" He asked, baffled._

_"Staring at me."_

_"You're right, it's a ridiculous notion to love a Gryffindor who, I claim to hate for their idiocy, their complete ineptness, and naivety. I hate him. I hate everything he stands for. Too innocent, too fucking righteous."_

_"So, you hate him? What, then, Malfoy? Why do you love him?"_

_"Just one of those things, ain't it, Potter? Just as much as I hate him, I love him twice as much. Perhaps, I'm fond of him."_

"Harry?"

"I- I think I should-" Harry couldn't find the words, but thought Hermione understood. "I'm-"

"I'll see you later." Hermione said and Harry looked at her gratefully.

"Yeah. I'll see you in a bit." He said. Hermione smiled and he nodded, turning away from her and walked off to the Slytherin dorm. He had his Invisible Cloak with him and as he turned a corner, he took it out and covered himself with it. Then, he left to visit Draco again.

-0-

When Draco and Harry had had sex - because, let's face it, they did, it was no use trying to ignore the detail and deny it - Harry hadn't wanted to talk about their feelings; perhaps, because he wasn't ready and Draco was just a bit too bizarre to talk with when he had two different voices talking in his head. So, now that he knew that Draco's souls had merged, he was ready to talk. Whatever they wanted to, he would brave upon it with great Gryffindor tactics. He wasn't a coward; he wouldn't run away and he had seen Draco's feelings, so what really was he afraid of?

As he told the Leprachaun Portrait the password and it opened to let him in, Harry had been determined, confident and what-not. Once he entered and the door shut behind him, Harry wasn't so confident anymore.

Draco was lying on his back on his four-poster bed, reading a thick book with far too much interest. It was like watching Hermione, but definitely not her because she would be reading in a comfortable way with a desk and a seat to sit on and Draco was reading it in a strange yet endearing manner.

Harry really had to stop admiring Draco's physique and attitude; because as much as Harry had been denying his attraction to the boy, it was turning to mush against Draco's strangely phenomenal actions.

Draco slowly took the book out of his eye-sight and took a look around the room as if expecting someone and when he saw nobody, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion before they raised. "Potter?" He questioned.

Harry licked his lips as they were dry with nervousness and took the cloak off. "Hey." He greeted.

Draco raised a brow and said softly: "Thought you weren't coming back."

Harry stared at him and stepped forward. "Why would you think that?"

Draco shook his head and raised his voice. "Oh, I don't know, maybe cause' I'm far too strange a creature and you just keep coming back for more of me." He tilted his head sideways. "Is that a kink of yours, Potter? Do you like strange things? Magical creatures who exude sexual pheromone do anything for you? Thought you were a bit of on the ordinary side? You know, you chose Cho Chang, who is pretty ordinary."

Harry was startled at the sardonic comments and put away his cloak as he bided for time. "What about Cho?" He didn't know what Draco was playing at; his eyes looked far too dead for Harry to take him in a playful manner.

"Oh, you know, your obvious crush on her since third grade. Boy-crush, but it told me just how much you like tom-boyish, tough Seekers."

Harry decided to ignore whatever Draco was trying to say, for they were too mind-boggling for him and instead, chose to ask: "What did you say about sexual pheromones again?"

Draco shrugged slightly. "Apparently, Alliuds exude sexual pheromones. Can you guess?" He rolled his eyes and lay his head back on bed. "And I was hoping that it was because of my perky nipples that you were attracted to me. Turns out, I'm just like a Veela." He said this very bitterly.

Harry looked at him and knew what Draco was saying was right. God, he didn't even think about that- that maybe, he was getting influenced because of Draco's magical ability to exude sexual pheromones. That was... far more possible than this. Really. That should be the end of it for Harry.

But no. Not really.

After all, he was far more interested in the misery on Draco's face than his body at the moment; which didn't exactly mean that he wanted to gloat at the suffering on the prat's face- he actually wanted to erase all the insecurities and bitterness from Draco's face. Which should give him a warning that he was far too into this thing they had going on than he would like.

"I suppose that that means, I'm your mate now." he said this very jokingly. Draco turned to give him a look and Harry grinned. "Hey, it's not like you're not sexy yourself. I mean, you're... gorgeous."

"You trying to make me feel better about myself, Potter?" Draco asked with a quirk of his brow and Harry knew he was feeling better even if he wasn't showing it.

"Obviously. I mean, we're _mates_, right?"

Draco rolled his eyes again, turning his head on the bed so he was staring at the tapestry above his bed. "Haha."

"I see you get my reference then." Harry added.

"Where did you hear this shite from anyway?" Draco demanded.

"I was sneaking around in the girls' dorm one night and caught them talking about Veela romances."

"Why were sneaking around in the girls' dorm?"

"I was searching for Hermione." Harry amended. "I swear, it wasn't anything else."

"Oh, okay." Draco said and then, furrowed his brows. "Wait, did you just try to defend yourself to me?"

"Well. We are boyfriends now, aren't we? I should defend myself." Harry snorted, couldn't help but smile.

Draco glared at him. "It's not a joke, Potter. I'm ashamed; I thought I would catch you by my own sexual prowess, but it was just the pheromones that were working for you. Great. Just bloody brilliant."

Harry walked to the bed and sat at the edge, looking down at the cranky look on Draco's face. "I'd still fancy you."

"You?" Draco repeated, looking doubtful.

"Oh, come on." Harry punched him playfully. "Thought you Slytherins were more confident in yourself even when people hated you."

"Except, Potter that we felt good about ourselves because we had something with us; pride, money, fame, family. Stuff that mattered. We didn't need love, respect or sexual confidence if we had all those things."

"Yeah, I still think you Slytherins are far too confident in your sexual life than any other House ever would be."

"And you would know because?"

"Because you're such a great teacher." Harry said this a bit bitterly, smirking.

"I am?" Draco looked cautiously at him.

"Hermione told me about your method so, she could manipulate Ron's interest." Harry admitted. "I kind-of understood that you are or were some kind-of player in another world."

"Or in the future."

"So. You were a player in the future?"

"Maybe."

"You been with many blokes?" Harry asked innocently enough. He wasn't even thinking about the answer.

"Jealous, Potter?" Okay, maybe he was. Harry just continued on with the innocent act.

"No, just wondering. I need to know stuff about you now that we're kind-of in a relationship."

"Right." Draco said dryly and looked away. "Yes. I had many conquest back in the days." He admitted.

"Not me?" Harry asked slyly.

Draco snorted sadly and said: "You're weren't anywhere near me, Potter. You were married to a woman. You were straight and hot and so _straight_."

Harry looked at him and wondered if that was the reason why Draco's plan was so well-_planned. _There was no er, no error as far as he knew.

"Well, for the record, I'm still straight." Harry informed.

"Brilliant." said Draco in an edgy tone.

"I still want to shag you."

Draco opened his eyes and stared at him silently. "So, why don't you?" He invited blatantly. Harry turned to glance at his body as the shirt rode up and revealed Draco's pale skin beneath and couldn't take his eyes off it.

"You asked for it." Harry murmured and then, bent down to capture Draco's lips in his.


End file.
